


rogue shadow (spark of light)

by absolutelyamethyst



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Canon Divergent, Dark elements, Darkness, F/F, Gen, Lots and Lots of OCs, Morals and ethics, Original Characters - Freeform, The Vanguard (Destiny), author bends the rules a bit, long road ahead but Beyond Light content is coming, non-canon compliant, probably not what you expect, rogue Guardians, the tagged ship is incredibly slow-burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:01:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24891238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/absolutelyamethyst/pseuds/absolutelyamethyst
Summary: the darkness is a wily thing, steadfast and stubborn where the light is bright and blinding. It lives in everything, as does the light.the two cannot coexist.right?
Relationships: Ana Bray/Female Guardian, Cayde-6 & Female Guardian (Destiny), The Drifter & Female Guardian (Destiny)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	1. red sands and silver stars

**Author's Note:**

> oh look, she's finally posting the destiny 2 fic she's been messing with for like, three years!  
> *ahem*  
> yo! this fic is canon-divergent (as mentioned in the tags) and will be playing with a lot as far as the light/class abilities/subclasses go, which I hope will turn out cool.  
> and just a heads up- this fic is also going to have fairly dark themes as far as the ethics/political side of things goes, because some of the stuff that happens here...yeah.

“Here’s the thing,” Aurora tells her Ghost at sunrise, when their ship’s hovering between the earth’s limelight and a chasm of stars. “I don’t know where we’re going.” 

And Ember, twitchy, feisty little thing, merely spins her multi-pointed shell and whirs softly as she comes up with a response, heaves a gentle, mechanical sigh as she answers, “Mars, Aurora, we’re going to Mars.” 

Aurora snorts, fingers twitching as she rests one hand against the ship’s steering console. “Not like  _ that,” _ she groans, brushing a stray strand of hair over her ear. “After this. After...after.” 

Ember is silent. 

“They’re refusing to clear my mission to head to the Shore again,” Aurora says, voice underlaid with a growl that’s furious and completely unintimidating all at once. “Cayde is gone and they’re just gonna  _ take it-  _ move on, mourn, act like there’s nothing we can do.” 

Ember still doesn’t say anything. 

“It’s ridiculous.” Aurora’s hand twitches again, solar light flickering in the space between her fingers and her palm. “We should be out there now instead of running these dam’d bounties. Hunting down the Barons.”

“We’re outnumbered, Aurora.” Ember says. 

“I’m not the only one who disagrees.” Aurora tilts her head back, stares at the stars. “I’m just the only one who’s brave enough to do something about it.” 

For another heartbeat, Ember is silent. Then, “brave? Or stupid?” 

“Tch.” Aurora lifts a hand to bat the Ghost away, but when Ember swerves to dodge, ends up in the center of her vision, Aurora smiles. “Never said I was smart,” she says. 

Ember hums, amused. “I’ve got your back,” she says. “To Mars?” 

“To Mars,” Aurora echoes softly. Then she frowns. “For now.” 

Because there’s a whole lot of stars singing around them, and the tune in Aurora’s ears is a sad, sad cry that’s full of longing and full of grief. 

She shuts her eyes. 

She’s singing too. 

~

Mars’ red sands sift into the crevices of Aurora’s armor, stain her cloak until the ivory fabric is auburn tinged. 

She pulls at it as she makes her way into the depths of the Futurescape, her helmet clicking as her scanners work to separate sand from her surroundings. 

“Of course we’d land in the middle of a sandstorm,” she mumbles, cursing, “of course.”

“It’s always storming on Mars.” Her comms crackle with a familiar voice, one that’s twisting and full of sarcasm that’s wry and knife-sharp. “‘f you were around more, you’d know that.” 

Aurora whistles, stops to gaze at the buildings around her, and starts right at Ember’s indication. “Someone’s jealous.” 

“Don’t look at me,” Ana chuckles, “I exiled myself out here.”

“Damn right you did, not that the Vanguard’d put up with you anyway.” Her lip curls at the mention of the Tower’s leaders, and her stomach twists with the memory of their words. No matter. She’s got better things to deal with now. 

Ana hums over the comms, not dismissively, just...amused. “So, what  _ are  _ you here for?” 

“Bounties,” Aurora calls out, as she enters the Braytech building. Her helmet disappears as the air clears. She looks around, her lip curling, one hand drifting across the banister as she walks up the steps to Ana’s terrace. “Love what you’ve done with the place.” 

“Ah, shut up.” Ana turns, one hand still resting on the bank of computers at her side, her eyes twinkling in Mars’ dim light. “It’s good to see you, Aurora.” 

“Good to see you too,” Aurora returns, smiling as Ember zips into view. Her Ghost stretches, sparkles, and behind Ana one of the computers starts flashing as the available bounties blink out one by one. 

Ana whistles. “Lot of work for a few materials.”

“Anything to keep me busy,” Aurora mumbles, half to herself, but Ana catches it anyway. 

Her brows furrow. “About that,” she says, crossing her arms with a soft sigh. “You doing okay?” 

“Aww, Ana, I didn’t know you cared,” Aurora sneers, but there’s no bite to it, and she knows as her gaze falls to the sand-crusted floor that Ana won’t give up that easily. “Look-”

“I know I don’t talk to anyone on the Tower much,” Ana says, “but you’re not the only Guardian that comes through here. I know...I know Cayde’s gone, Aurora, and I’m so sorry.” 

Aurora growls. “I really,  _ really  _ don’t want to talk about it, Ana.” 

“And that’s fine.” Ana holds up her hands in silent surrender. “I just don’t want you to work yourself too hard- I’m your point of contact here-”

Aurora’s hands grow warm. She clenches her fists, but she can still feel the sparks starting beneath her skin. 

“-I just...” Ana stops, and Aurora looks up just in time to watch a pink flush bloom across the other hunter’s cheeks. “Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

“I won’t,” Aurora says, blinking, the lie bitter on her tongue. “Bounties all set?” 

Ana nods, clicks her tongue as she turns back to look at her computer. “All set,” she says, “don’t suppose you’ll be hangin’ around long?” 

“Not all of us have the patience to stay on this dustball,” Aurora shoots back with a wink. “Thanks again, Ana.” 

The gentle spark reaches Ana’s eyes again. She smiles, her whole body relaxing with it. “Anytime.” 

_ You know, if I didn’t know any better…  _ Ember begins. 

“Shut up,” Aurora hisses.

_...I’d say she likes you.  _

“What do you know? You’re just a Ghost.” 

Ember hums. They transmat up again. Aurora flings her cloak over her chair--dramatically tucks and tightens until it’s in the right place, not that it matters, not that she actually does any flying--and tries to ignore Ember’s words. 

But Ember’s used to it.  _ I may be ‘just a Ghost’, but we’ve been working with Ana for a long time,”  _ she says,  _ I’ve never seen her worry about anyone.  _

“I don’t have time for crushes,” Aurora mutters, “not where I’m going.” 

Ember turns, single eye glimmering brightly. “So you’ve decided, then?” 

“Maybe. Probably. Definitely. Yes.” 

Ember stares. 

“If the Vanguard won’t track down Uldren and the Barons, then I’m going to do it without them,” Aurora says, “I have to. For Cayde.” She curls her gloved hand around Ember, bops her gently to the side. “You with me?” 

“I’m always with you,” her Ghost says, bobbing down in a nod. “For Cayde.” 

“For Cayde,” Aurora says again. 

Mars disappears in a flash of red sand and silver stars. 

  
  


Ana watches them fly away. 

~


	2. lightning and lost time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aurora heads back to the tower and ends up meeting some friends.   
> It doesn't go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should have mentioned this before, but the chapter lengths for this fic will vary chapter by chapter.

The Tower’s bustling with activity when Aurora arrives, just like it always is. 

And, just like always, she melts into the crowd of bustling civilians and fellow Guardians without anyone taking notice of her. 

It’s strange how easy it is now, how quickly she slips into smiles and bright eyes, even though the Tower is empty and cold without him here. 

Cayde is gone. Sometimes it feels like she’s the only one who remembers. 

Most of the Guardians around her are headed toward the Bazaar, but Aurora breaks away and heads into the Hangar. Here, the open-air gives way to an oily scent, thick and heavy with grease and dust and it’s  _ a lot,  _ makes it hard to breathe, but she’s never minded. 

The Hangar is where Amanda is. But Aurora’s not here to see Amanda, she’s here for his spot- for the spot where Cayde used to stand, babbling about lost sparrows and hidden treasures. 

Cayde’s corner of the Tower is a patchwork thing, a tarp upheld by a few wobbling posts. The cloth ceiling is a dirty shade of gold, looks as if it was pulled from the mud and hung to dry. It’s tall enough that Cayde could stand under it but it’s slumping now, hanging limp, hiding everything beneath. 

Aurora works at that first- drops her bag onto the concrete, works at separating the ties from the posts and straightening everything until the tarp is balanced and flat again. 

She picks up what’s on the floor next, bits of paper and scraps of cardboard, all of it scribbled on in Cayde’s messy hand. 

That’s right- he could’ve transcribed everything to his Ghost but he’d written almost everything instead, And he’d just...left it all. Here. 

He hadn’t expected to die. 

“Aurora,” Ember says, popping up in Aurora’s peripheral vision. “What...exactly are you doing?” 

“Cleaning,” Aurora grunts, bending down to rummage through the boxes beneath Cayde’s desk. “...procrastinating.” 

“Knew it,” Ember huffs, static. “Shouldn’t we be going?” 

“Probably-”

“Looking for something?” 

Aurora  _ jumps.  _

“Well I’ll be damned- looks like you  _ can  _ get scared, Aurora,” Amanda drawls, crossing her arms as she slumps back to grin at Aurora. “Ikora came by, grabbed most of the important stuff Cayde left behind.” 

“I’m not looking for anything, really,” Aurora fumbles, “just-”

“Procrastinating.” 

Aurora’s cheeks burn. “Yeah.”

Amanda nods, but her expression is dubious. “Well in that case, Banshee came by too- grabbed something he said he thought you’d want.” 

“What?” 

“Ace,” Amanda says, “he left the blueprints for his gun behind.”

“Why?” 

Amanda tilts her head, lips pinching together in a frown. “Dunno. Never could figure out why he did the things he did.” 

“No one could,” Aurora snorts, huffs out a breath that tosses the hair out of her eyes. “Tell Banshee to give the ‘prints to someone else.”  _ Someone who deserves it.  _

“You sure?” Amanda’s frown deepens. “If he could give them to anyone, he would’ve wanted it to be you.” 

“I’m sure,” Aurora says, patting the hand cannon at her waist. “I’m fine with what I’ve got.” She doesn’t deserve Ace, not anymore, not with what she’s about to do. “Thanks, Amanda.” 

She stands up, sighs, takes another slow look at Cayde’s old spot. 

“Why do I get the feelin’ you’re about to leave again?” Amanda asks. “Some new enemy out there I don’t know about?” 

“You know me, never could stay in one place for too long,” Aurora says with a grin that’s shallow, bright, and fake. 

Amanda stares at her, wordless. 

“Catch you later,” Aurora says, ducking past her.  _ Maybe.  _

“You could’ve taken the gun, you know,” Ember says as soon as they’re a safe distance away. “Would’ve been nice to have it, maybe.” 

“That gun deserves a Guardian who’s just like Cayde- someone who’s got his spirit.” 

“And that’s not you?” 

“That’s not me,” Aurora nods, grimacing. “Not now,  _ definitely  _ not down the line.”

Ember is quiet for a second, but when Aurora stills she can feel the Ghosts’ anxiety, a gentle nudge at the back of her mind. 

“Ember-”

“I know you don’t want to fight about it, Aurora-”

“They  _ killed Cayde.”  _ Aurora stops, one boot dragging against the ground as she pauses to allow Ember to appear in front of her, her companion dipping and bobbing as she hovers in front of her. “They killed Cayde and the Vanguard won’t do anything about it so I have to. It’s that easy, Ember.” 

“But it  _ isn’t, _ ” Ember says, “‘it’s the opposite. If we do this, we’re going directly against the Vanguard’s orders. Against Zavala.” Ikora is a gray area, they know, silently complicit. Zavala is a different story. “If we do this-”

“I don’t care what happens.” The lights above Aurora flicker as the air around her warms, solar light singing as her temper flares. “It’s for Cayde.”

“What’s for Cayde?” Another familiar, another  _ unwanted  _ voice asks. 

Aurora turns, shoulders going stiff and straight for a brief moment before she relaxes. “Delia.”

The Titan grins at her. “Hey.”

Beside her, Ven stands with his arms crossed, golden eyes glowering at Aurora as she forces herself to relax. He doesn’t say anything, which isn’t a good sign. Ven is...outspoken, normally. Passionate in a way most Warlocks aren’t.

Delia’s not saying anything either, which means they have a problem. 

And Aurora turns to face them both, moves to lean against the wall as she crosses her arms, eyes her comrades up and down. “Problem?”

“We had a strike to run,” Delia says, slowly, softly. “Arms dealer. Cleaning up another round of Cabal in the EDZ. Ring any bells?” 

It does, but that’s not important. Aurora grimaces. 

“Told you,” Ven grunts, “she was ignoring us.” 

Delia’s eyes widen. “Aurora-”

“I’ve been busy-” Aurora begins, but Ven’s eyes flash blue and his whole body goes rigid as he takes a step toward her, Delia’s hand firm over his shoulder. 

“Busy,” he growls, “ _ busy? _ There were more Cabal in there than we anticipated, Aurora, we almost didn’t make it out.” 

Figures that she’d be stuck with two Guardians who couldn’t deal with a few Cabal. 

Figures they’d play that card when she’d saved their hides too many times to count. 

Figures they’d forget that she’d walked through the EDZ  _ alone,  _ fought through hoards of Cabal and Fallen and Taken just to get to Ghaul on a day that seems like ages ago, days, weeks, minutes. 

Memories of fire and fury flash behind her eyes against her will. She blinks them away. Focuses. “I’m leaving the Tower.” 

“For how long?” Delia asks, panicking, her eyes flashing in a way different than Ven’s, with fear instead of anger. “Aurora-” 

“I have something I need to do.” Simple words, but they reveal too much and she can see it in Ven’s expression. 

His lips press together. “You’re going after Uldren.”

“You can’t!” Delia gasps, hands flying to cover her mouth. “Aurora, that’s suicide.” 

“I’m a  _ Guardian, _ ” Aurora sneers, “that’s what Ember’s for.” It’s a lame excuse, a harsh jab that undercuts at everything her Ghost does, and she can feel Ember’s indignation in their link. She’ll apologize later. 

“Besides, the Vanguard said no,” Ven adds, “and if you go against them-”

“I’m not having this conversation.” Aurora’s stomach roils, fury coating her words. 

Ven steps forward again, his eyes still flashing. “Don’t be stupid, Aurora.” 

“If you two would quit being such  _ cowards  _ I wouldn’t have to do it on my own.” 

“ _ Take that back!”  _ Ven snarls, and as he takes another step the lights do flicker out, flash, sputter as the energy in the hall twists and sparks with the force of his anger. “I’m not a coward,” he growls, fists clenching, lips curling into an ugly sneer. “Aurora, I swear-” 

“You couldn’t stop me even if you tried,” Aurora taunts, shaking her head, her expression blank and her gloved hands shaking over the hand cannon parked at her waist. 

Ven’s shaking. Delia’s still standing behind him, silent, her expression guarded but the fear’s still flickering through. They’re- they’re not even trying, she’s leaving and they care but they’re not even trying to stop her, not really,  _ even after everything they’ve been through- _

The hall yawns out behind her. Echoing voices cloud the shadows. People are coming. And if they see three Guardians fighting in the hall...well, it wouldn’t be the first time, but one way or another it would get back to Zavala eventually. 

She’d intended on making her way back to the Bazaar and Ikora, but… “Ember.”

Her helmet fits over her head and flickers on, painting everything in olive-tinged light. 

_ Transmat ready,  _ Ember says in her ear. 

“Do it.” 

“Aurora!” Ven lunges forward, sparks flashing between his fingers as he reaches out, but right as he brushes against her arm she vanishes, transmats into thin air and drops into the safety of her ship. 

They head into the unknown. 

Except it isn’t unknown, not really, because the Tangled Shore is her destination and it’ll be her home until her missions’ done. 

She’ll track down the Barons. One by one. And when she’s through...Uldren’s next. 

_ For Cayde.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! leave a kudos on your way out <3


	3. purple rocks and sour deals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aurora meets a certain someone, an old friend, and makes a couple of steps into the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good ol' Spider. 
> 
> Imma be honest- I wasn't sure how to write him here, so I just...went with my own perception of his character, and I really like how it turned out! He definitely plays off of Aurora well.

The Tangled Shore is a sea of purple, lavender and violet hues curling together in a mountainscape that’s strange and soothing all at once. 

There’s a strange edge to the air here, a cold ripple in the wind that bites at Aurora’s shoulders, brushes beneath her armor as she sets down, boots dusting up the sand. 

“I don’t like this,” Ember says, shell’s edges spinning nervously. “I’m picking up a lot of Fallen activity, Hive too. And Taken. And-”

“I get it, they have everything here.” Aurora snorts. “We’re still not leaving.” 

“Worth a shot,” Ember murmurs, disappearing. Aurora scoffs. 

“So this is the Tangled Shore,” she murmurs, kicking a pale colored stone across the rocky terrain. “Not much to look at.” 

“I think it’s beautiful,” Ember says, “er- it would be, if there weren’t-” she’s interrupted by a rifle shot that blazes through Aurora’s peripheral, zips through the air and slams into the nearest boulder, sending the whole thing falling into one a nearby gulch. 

“Don’t say it,” Aurora warns, hand cannon shifting in her grasp, her left hand drifting toward the small array of knives at her hip. She fires once, turns, staring at the terrain. “All these rocks- I never-”

“Told you so,” Ember says, “now please- for your sake and mine, try not to get us killed.”

“Says you!” 

But she’s right and Aurora knows it- dodges and rolls to the ground just as another bolt of purple energy burns through the air. Fallen-

“Not the Fallen,” Ember says, “the  _ Scorn.  _ Same things as we saw in the Prison with-” she stops. They both see it in the same moment- a group of Scorn led by a massive, towering monster with thick white armor and a glowering sneer on its face. “I’m gonna shut up now.” 

The golden gun that sizzles to life in Aurora’s hands is just as much from her raised temper as it is from the fear that resonates inside her as she meets the Chieftain’s eyes. “Yeah. Do that.”

She’s learned over time that the golden gun is a volatile thing, with its flashy recoil and tendency to buck with every shot. Aiming was...not her strongest skill, in the beginning, and for a while she went for the easier path-- to arc-light. 

Multi-talented she might be, but solar is still her calling. The golden gun fits in her hands is if it were made to sit there. She grasps it tightly, raises her hand and fires-

One, two. Two shots, two loud echoes that ring through the air before buzzing into a silence that’s heavy and swift all at once. 

The Chieftain falls. 

“I'm glad that’s over,” Ember says, “that Chieftain was…”

“Nothing,” Aurora says, dusting the silt off her cloak. “It was nothing.” 

Ember materializes in front of her, twirls slowly as she stares. “...right. That aside- there’s a strange energy signature popping up on the map-”

“And?” 

“ _ And  _ it’s probably worth checking out? Unless you’d rather stick around here and get shot at.”

“You talk too much,” Aurora says, her lips curling into a half smirk, half sneer. 

“ _ What? _ ” Ember screeches, shell spinning wildly. “I saved your life just now-”

“ _ You-” _

With a grunt, Aurora bats the Ghost away. Ember falls silent as Aurora starts running, her steps swift, silent as she ambles up the battered terrain.

No two cliffs look the same. The entire planet feels like it’s seen hell and thrived anyway- if “thriving” means growing a ton of purple moss and spinning in space with creatures of darkness crawling like insects over its skin.

“The energy signature is just up ahead,” Ember says, and Aurora stops, bites her lip, flicks a hand over the knives at her waist and caresses her hand cannon with her other hand. 

“Knucklehead Radar,” she says. 

“But-”

“I don’t  _ care  _ how it makes me look, I’d rather look dumb than  _ die, _ ” Aurora snaps, curses as Ember makes the switch. Knucklehead Radar is a clunky helmet, a Hunter’s piece for sure, equipped with a radar that’s impossible to find a blindspot in. 

The Tangled Shore is uncharted territory, and she shouldn’t be out here at all. If anything happens to her, no one’s coming to bring her back. 

Not like they did for Cayde. 

She thumps her thumb and index finger against Crimson one more time, then loosens one of her knives in its sheath and jumps off her cliff, landing lightly on the rocks below. 

Before her are the remains of an outpost. 

It’s worn ragged, thrown together and spaced too far apart to have any defensive power. The tent on the far left side is still upright, but the fire nearby is blackened with old ashes that crust over the remains of the kindling that sparked them. 

“What...was this?” Aurora whispers. The whole camp feels like a graveyard of sorts, minus the death and decay. 

“A trading post, perhaps,” Ember says. “There's glimmer over there.” 

“Hm.” Aurora tilts her head. “Is it considered stealing if the person that left it is dead?” 

“I-”

“Not like there’s anyone around to know…”

“I do hope you’re not intending on stealing from me, Guardian.” 

Aurora whirls around, Crimson in her hands in an instant, her other hand flipping between the grenades or the knives at her hip. “Who-”

“After all, that would make for a  _ terrible  _ first impression, don’t you agree?” The stranger’s voice is thick and growling, but not at all...unkind. Suave. Charming, sickeningly so. 

“Who are you?” Aurora demands, her heart racing. “How did you get access to this channel?” 

“My Shore, my rules,” the voice answers, “and as for the answer to your questions, I need a favor- complete it and you’ll get your information. Do we have a deal?” 

_ This is a bad idea,  _ Ember says in her head,  _ Whoever this guy is, he sounds like trouble.  _

“We have a deal,” Aurora says. Ember’s concern flashes like a beacon in the back of her mind but she ignores it. “What do I need to do?”

“ _ Someone’s  _ been tampering with my recent acquisitions,” the stranger says, “I’ve been unable to locate three of my lost stashes, and I’m afraid my comrades and I are far too exhausted to search any further-”

“You want me to find your stuff? Fine. Long as I get what I want.” 

The stranger huffs. “Interrupting is rude, Guardian.” 

“And that’s another thing,” Aurora snaps, “how do you know what I am?” 

“Why, that’s easy,” the stranger says, laughing. “I can smell your light from here.”

_ Aurora-  _

The comlink crackles, then goes quiet. 

Neither of them say anything for a second. 

“I don’t like this,” Ember says, “I don’t like this at all.”

“Me either,” Aurora nods, sets her jaw. “Not like we have another option.” 

“There at least a dozen other options-”

“You heard what he said, Ember- ‘his shore, his rules’. Whoever this guy is, it sounds like he knows this place pretty well. Which means he’s gonna know where Uldren and the Barons might be hiding.”

Ember is silent-- a silent admittal that she’s right. Aurora smirks. And then stops, because even though Ember’s not saying anything she can still feel her Ghost’s fear, flickering in their shared headspace with a soft, subtle pulse. 

“For what it’s worth, I’m going to be careful,” she says. 

“You’re never careful.” Ember reappears for just a second, her expressionless shell somehow concerned as she tilts, staring at Aurora. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” 

“I’m sorry,” Aurora says, biting her lip. 

She doesn’t get a response. 

She stands there, on the edge of the outpost, stares at the sky until a distant beacon summons her forward, the sound cracking like thunder through the rocky terrain. 

Ember’s silent in her head. She continues forward anyway, gaze flickering between every nook and cranny as she searches for the stashes. 

_ I’m sorry,  _ she thinks, unable to speak, her chest tightening as she struggles to cross the Shore quickly. There’s no time to stop, not even for a second. She’s got a job to do, and Ember… well. Ember’s opinions can’t--shouldn’t,  _ won’t _ \--interfere.

~

She finds one of the stashes, and that makes it easier to find the second, and the third. 

They’re bigger than she anticipated, and- she’s grateful that Ember’s able to transmat them, because the stashes are thick and massive in both height and width--they look like trash bags, black and loose along the edges, holding...something. 

She lifts a finger, just a peek-

“Don’t even think about it, Guardian.”

“Really,” Aurora drawls, “after everything I’ve done for you today? Not even a teeny tiny look?” 

“I know your type well,” the stranger says, “give a Guardian an inch and they’ll take a mile.” He grunts. The stashes vanish before Aurora’s eyes. 

Aurora curses, whistles as she shakes her head, her irritation giving way to amusement. “And that’s another thing- how did you know I was-”

“I have eyes everywhere, Guardian,” the stranger says. “Follow the coordinates I sent to your Ghost. You’ll see why.”

_ That’s...interesting.  _

“ _ What’s _ interesting?” Aurora grunts as the channel goes dead. 

_ I’m scanning for any signs of human life out here...but you’re the only signal I’m getting, and everything in the direction of these coordinates...is Fallen. _

“Fallen,” Aurora grumbles, picking at her knives again, sweeping her hands back to pull and tuck away her hair. “That’s freakin’ fantastic.”

Ember has the nerve to  _ laugh. _

~

“Heck of a place you’ve got here,” Aurora calls out as she enters. Her voice bounces off the walls of the cave they’re in-- _ cave,  _ she thinks with a wry smile, because it’s dank and dark and all the things a cave should be. 

_ I had no idea a cave could look so...homey.  _ Ember appears, casts a gentle light on the path, illuminating the uneven floor. 

“That’s a stretch, even for you,” Aurora grumbles, kicking a shard of bone across the floor. “Light, it  _ reeks  _ in here. We-” 

The hallways ends, widening into a deeper space that’s bright and crowded and loud, bustling with the sounds of-

“Don’t shoot!” The stranger calls, and there’s a scuffle--Aurora’s swept up around a crowd of Fallen, all of them clamoring around her, mumbling in their dull, husky tongue. 

“Get  _ off  _ me,” Aurora snarls, tearing away from them, the Light roiling around her as she shoves the Fallen aside, making space for herself in the small room. “What the  _ hell  _ is going on? Who… are… ah, shit.” 

“Welcome to my humble abode, Guardian,” the towering Fallen rumbles, leaning forward to steeple his hands at his chest. “My, you’re a lot...smaller than I thought you’d be.” 

Aurora bristles. “Your  _ point _ ?” 

“I have what you want,” the stranger says, leaning backward. “But first- introductions. You can call me Spider. You’ve already met my...comrades.” 

_ Comrades.  _ Aurora’s lip curls as she crosses her arms. “Yeah, we’ve met.”

“But I’ve no idea what to call you, Guardian- I do love getting to know my... associates better, after all.”

“Aurora,” she says, after a moment. “My name’s Aurora.”

“After the aurora borealis?” The Spider hums. “I’ve heard of such a phenomenon on earth- have you seen it, by chance?” 

“Can’t say I have.” 

“A shame, from what I’ve heard it’s remarkable indeed.” 

“I don’t have time for idle chat, Spider,” Aurora snaps, “you have information I want. Uldren Sov. The Barons. They killed- someone I care about.”

“So you want revenge.” 

“Revenge.” The word is hot and sharp on Aurora’s tongue. “Yeah, that’s what I want.” 

The Spider hums again, a sound that’s almost musical, but gritty, harsh. “You don’t sound sure.” 

“Do you know where the Barons are or not?” Aurora snarls, stepping forward, batting the Fallen guards away as they rush to defend their leader. Around her, the air pops, grows uncomfortably warm, sending a handful of scarlet sparks fluttering to the ground. 

“As it happens, Uldren and his Barons have been a thorn in my side for some time now- they’ve stolen my territory and destroyed half my forces. That means we’ve got ourselves a common interest, Guardian.”

“I’m not here to do your dirtywork-”

“Even if it means taking down the Barons? Isn’t that what you want?” 

Aurora grimaces. 

“All I want is my territory back,” the Spider says, “as long as you do that, I don’t care what else you do on my Shore.” 

“Even-”

“Tamper with my stashes and I’ll make sure you don’t make it off this Shore,” the Spider growls, “and do try to keep things intact.”

“No blowing things up? Boo.” 

“You’re testing my patience, Guardian.” 

Aurora pouts. “My cue to leave, then-”

“Before you do…”

_ We’re wasting time,  _ Ember says. 

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet, Guardian. Perhaps...you’ve met before?”

A door opens. Aurora jumps--she hadn’t realized there was a door there in the first place--and turns to find...of all people… “Petra Venj.” 

“Hello, Guardian,” Petra nods in her direction, lithe body moving to lean against the wall. “Fancy meeting you here.” 

Aurora snorts. 

“If you’re done with our mutual friend here, may I steal a moment of your time?” 

“‘course,” Aurora shrugs, nods back in the Spider’s direction. 

“Don’t forget our deal,” the Spider rumbles. “How does that earth-saying go…’I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine’?”

“Let’s  _ not. _ ” 

The Spider laughs. 

“The hell are you doing here?” Petra hisses, tugging Aurora into a corner, out of the Spider’s range. “If Ikora and Zavala let you out here, where are the rest of the Guardians?  _ Why aren’t there more of you?” _

“The Vanguard aren’t letting me do anything,” Aurora says, “I came here on my own.” 

Petra bristles. “And when you go back? What will they do then?” 

“I don’t know.” Aurora locks eyes with Petra, holds the Guard’s gaze as she leans backward, sighs. “I didn’t have another choice, Petra.  _ He killed Cayde.” _

“I know.” Petra’s hand goes to her gun, her gaze breaking away from Aurora, turning hazy, distant as she sighs. “And just as you and the Spider have a mutual interest in hunting down the Barons, I believe you and I could help each other as well-”

“Petra, listen-”

“I’m going to hunt down Uldren and kill him,” Petra says, stopping Aurora cold. “After everything he’s done- for the sake of my Queen-” 

“We’ll work together,” Aurora says, “but Uldren is mine.” 

Petra stares at her. Aurora stares back. 

“Do we have a deal?” Aurora asks, holding out her hand, antsy. 

For a moment, she’s afraid Petra won’t say anything- that she’ll decline, leave, and instead of having an ally on the Shore, she’ll be once again alone. 

But Petra takes her hand. “We have a deal,” she says. “And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry about what happened to Cayde.”

Aurora growls. “The Vanguard-”

“Worry about them later.” A new light, fresh and star-bright, dawns in Petra’s eyes. “Right now, we have to hunt.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ty for reading! leave a kudos on your way out <3


	4. battle cries and roaring engines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Aurora, Ember, and Petra go after the first of the Scorn's Barons--the Rider, Yaviks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologize for this chapter--there's months between these sections, and I've had to very quickly become adjusted to Aurora's characterization again, but Beyond Light is out and I finally have an Xbox again, so I'm incredibly anxious to get to the new content which should, hopefully, mean that newer (better) chapters are coming out soon!

There are times when Aurora loves being a Guardian, loves the chaos of it, the action, the way the Light feels when it burns down her arm and into the air. 

But there are times when she hates it too. 

Because sometimes it feels like chores-- or a series of them, really, a laundry list of things to do and bounties to complete and things done for  _ someone else,  _ someone not her, don’t really feel like useful things at all. 

The Spider’s bounties feel like that. 

“You were the one who wanted this,” Ember reminds her softly. 

Aurora shifts her weight, leans into the gust of air sweeping across the terrain, and shakes her head. “I didn’t want  _ ‘this’. _ I wanted actual hunting. Specifically, the Barons.”

“All good things, Guardian,” Petra says over the crackling comm. “How are things looking on your end?” 

“I’m almost done mapping everything out,” Aurora says, leaning against one of the empty crates that line the risen catwalk. “This place is...difficult.” 

“Has it been any easier since you’ve gained access to your sparrow?” 

“Sure,” Aurora shrugs, “doesn’t make finding my way around any easier, though.” 

“You could just ask me,” Ember says. 

Aurora glances at her. “And where’s the fun in that?” 

~

“How much longer am I gonna have to wait, Spider?” Aurora demands, reaching to cram a pile of completed bounty tags into the Spider’s massive hand. 

“You’re impatient,” the Spider observes, “too impatient, if you ask me.” 

“I didn’t,” Aurora snaps, “what I  _ did  _ ask for was information leading to the Barons. Information I’ve yet to receive.” 

_ You’ve got an incoming transmission,  _ Ember says quietly. 

Aurora’s lips tighten into an uneasy frown.  _ Deny it.  _

_ It’s from Ikora- _

_ I said what I said.  _

“Your lack of faith in me hurts, Guardian,” the Spider says, clutching one hand to his chest. “I may be a lot of things, but I always keep my word.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“I’m wounded,” he says, dryly, amusement edging his tone. “But if you insist on being so… quick to complete your mission-”

“I thought you wanted them off ‘your Shore’.” 

“...then I’ll transmit the coordinates to your Ghost.” The Spider glances at her, then down at his datapad, taps silently at the screen until Ember manifests, twirls, whirs as she gets the data. 

“I’ve received the locations,” she says, “...whoa, there’s a lot.” 

“There’s six,” Aurora says, humming as her helmet closes over her head, their map of the terrain blinking as the new coordinates overlay on top of it. “Eight total- we’ll have to knock out the first six first, then...we can focus on the Fanatic.” 

_ Are you going to be alright? _

_ With getting revenge? Of course.  _ “Thank you for your time, Spider,” Aurora says, her helmet disappearing again. She locks eyes with the Fallen uneasily, his gaze cold as he looks back at her. Then, “Petra, if you’d meet me outside?”

“Of course, Guardian.” Petra’s gaze is unreadable as they leave the Spider’s chamber. She’s still silent as they walk down the hallway, out of range of the Spider’s listening ears--and those of his comrades. 

“I hate this,” Aurora hisses once they’re out of sight, out of mind. “I feel like some sort of puppet. Only allowed to go as far as he wants.” 

“You escaped one leash only to fall prey to another,” Petra muses, nodding. “The Vanguard...have they contacted you?” 

“A few times,” Aurora says, then scoffs. “At least, they’ve tried.”

“You’re ignoring them?” Petra raises an eyebrow. “That’s bold, Guardian.” 

Aurora shrugs. “I have a name, you know,” she says, grinning wryly. 

Petra winces. “My apologies--”

“Formalities are for Warlocks,” Aurora says, and Petra stops, a slow smile breaking over her face. “There’s a Scorn Baron called the Rider. She’s... _ uh _ , who is she?” 

“She’s the Shore’s version of a gang leader,” Ember offers, “reckless, cruel, and fierce. Seems like she runs a--”

“A what?” 

“The Scorn’s version of a biker gang,” Ember finishes, twirling. 

Aurora snorts. “Don’t suppose that means she’ll be easy to catch?” 

“The opposite, probably.” 

“Just our luck.” 

“If we can grab one of their pikes, I can track them,” Ember says, “but the Scorn seem to hold onto their bikes better than the Fallen.” 

Aurora nods. The Scorn are different than the Fallen even though they look the same, in a way that’s noticeable and subtle all at once. It’s in the way they hold themselves, in the way their cries peel through the air as they scream, lunge at an opponent. There’s something about them that’s just... _ wrong.  _ Broken. 

They’re dangerous.

“We can find a pike,” she says, glaring around at the mottled rocks and rusted platforms stretching beyond their small, coveted cave-space. “Plenty around here, if we just--”

A low, guttural groaning echoes across the plain, followed by the soft buzzing of something electric, ancient--on the verge of breaking. 

Petra is silent as Aurora ambles forward, crouches low behind one of the rocks jutting up from the cave. In the distance, the gray pike is coming too close too quickly; the Scorn rider has no idea she’s here, isn’t paying attention. 

It’s just what she needs.

The pike nears. Aurora’s gaze is tight, focused on the stalker’s head as she snatches her hand cannon from her belt, aims. Her other hand twists around the hilt of one of the knives at her hip and as she fires twice--a miss and a perfect shot--and the second shot lands and the stalker topples over with the pike sputtering sideways and onto the ground. 

She ignores Petra’s amused--dare she say,  _ impressed?-- _ sigh behind her and jumps over the rock, landing gracefully a few steps away from the pike. 

The pike, for all the surety of its sturdy-looking frame, bucks immediately as she settles into the seat, slides sideways without her command, and nearly sends her flying into the ravine. She manages to steer it away, but only barely; it continues bucking and bumping as she tries to force it on the path back up to the cage, to no avail.

_ “It’s hardwired to sync with its rider,”  _ Ember says.  _ “You’ll have to ride it long enough to get used to you.”  _

“Yeah, no shi--” a wayward rifle shot whizzes over her shoulder, a wide miss, and Aurora shifts her gaze toward the platforms around her to glares at the culprit--a single stalker with its coppery weapon raised across the horizon. 

The pike refuses to listen. 

She growls, then curls her fingers tighter around the steering-bars and twists the pike down the hillside path, toward the cave. The pike has other ideas. 

_ “It’s hardwired to sync to its riders’ biometrics and its riders’ biometrics only,”  _ Ember says in her ear.  _ “The longer you ride it, the faster it’ll get used to you. Probably.”  _

_ “Aurora, stay safe. This Baron--she’s dangerous. Her reputation…”  _

“I’ll be fine.” 

There’s no room for error here--either she does what she came to the Shore to do or she fails. That’s it. That’s all she’s got. 

~

_ “The Rider’s real name is Yaviks. According to these reports, the Scorn fear her--she’s wild and unpredictable, and cunning--” _

“So, dangerous.”

_ “Dangerous, yes.”  _

“Right. And her last coordinates are…”

_ “Up ahead.”  _

Aurora stops the pike. A violet wasteland unfolds around them, pockmarked with pools of sickly yellow liquid that rise up into the air in clouds of putrid steam.

“What’re the odds I end up racing her?”

_ “Considering her records with guardians in the past, I’d say pretty high.” _

“Shit.”

_ “Well, well, well, what do we have here? A new toy, perhaps?” _

“Ember--”

_ “You should probably answer her--” _

“--you wanna explain to me how the hell everyone can get access to our comms?”

_ “Um, Aurora?”  _

“Yes?”

_ “She’s sending us coordinates.”  _

“Thought she was supposed to be the smart one.” 

Ember chuckles.  _ “What do you want to do?”  _

“Follow them, obviously.”

_ “The sooner you come to me the sooner we can play! Come to me, Guardian! Come! Come!” _

“Can’t wait,” Aurora mutters, kicking her pike into gear. 

At her shoulder, Ember vanishes, and together, they roar off into the purple abyss.

~

As promised, Yaviks’ location is just down a narrow cliff, the stone slab opening into a massive graveyard of a valley that goes on for miles. 

The remnants of old tanks and pikes scatter the ground, bits and pieces crunching beneath Aurora’s feet as she walks. 

_ “I don’t like this,”  _ Ember says,  _ “you should’ve kept that pike.”  _

“It was seconds away from exploding!”

_ “And who’s fault is that?” _

A few moments ago, as they’d rounded the last bend in the road to this gods-forsaken place, a Vandal’s rifle had pegged the back of the pike, sending it scuttling into the rocks. 

There hadn’t been much use for it, after that. 

_ “You’re a lousy pilot, Aurora.” _

“Am not. Name one time--” 

_ “That time you tried sparrow racing, just after we beat Siva. That time you tried to use your sparrow across that gulch on Nessus. I could go on.”  _

“Shut up.”

_ “You--” _

_ “New toy, are you here yet?”  _ Yaviks’ voice breaks impatiently into the comms.  _ “Hurry, hurry, hurry!” _

As the comms fall silent, the battle cry of the Scorn echoes across the clearing, shrill and piercing. 

Something scarlet rips through the air next to Aurora, scorching the ground where it lands. Instantly, Crimson is in her hands, the hand cannon rattling in her grip as she fires shot after shot. The Scorn fall; the long-range Raiders fall by her own rifle. 

The open clearing is dangerous; she runs and  _ rolls,  _ sparks flickering to life around her shoulders as she dodges incoming fire, curling around the side of a broken tank, laid bare against the broken ground. 

_ “Shit,”  _ she hisses, straightening, leaving her head against the side of the tang. Solar light blazes to life in her palms, but it might not be enough, this time. 

She shuts her eyes and reaches for the Void instead. 

The shadows cling to her easily, whisper in her ears as she reaches for her bow, pulls with all her might and fires, straight into the roiling throng of Scorn. 

They die screaming, and as she stands, the familiar heat of Solar light returns to her palms. 

She stares straight forward, into the center of the valley, and clenches her jaw. 

Yaviks’ pike is waiting for her, but just as soon as she thinks Yaviks has seen her, the Scorn Baron jets off on her pike. 

“Right, Jade Rabbit, Last Dance-- _ no,  _ the one with the stability mod, Ember, I don’t have time to--”

_ “Watch it!”  _

The scattered lightning of a pike’s fire hits the sand and spits debris into the air. Aurora leaps seconds before a second volley hits the ground where she stands, dodges and rolls once more, this time landing just shy of the opening into the next clearing. 

A second of silence; her heart is racing as she ducks into view of Yaviks again, raises Jade Rabbit’s sights so that the Baron’s head is in her view.

The first shot misses Yaviks’ head and hits her shoulder, just between the two pieces of armor that cover her arm and her chest. The second shot hits her helmet dead-center, piercing metal. Yaviks stalls, her pike sputtering beneath her, but zooms forward once she recovers. 

Aurora pulls her sparrow from thin air and follows, cursing. 

~

Their fight ends in a shower of sparks. 

Aurora is a whirlwind, the flames at her command hot and white as she sends fistfuls of knives down on the wounded Baron. Yaviks’ scream--a desperate, throaty thing--fills the air as she collapses from the wreckage of her sputtering pike. The hordes of Scorn that once surrounded her, protecting her, are mere remnants now, too few to cause any damage. They run away at Aurora’s glare. 

_ “Ikora’s on the comms,”  _ Ember says, and dimly, Aurora can feel her struggling to keep the Warlock out of their ear.  _ “She’s insisting she speak to you, Aurora, do you want me--” _

“No.” Aurora straightens, stowing her scout rifle, and switches to Crimson once more, tucking the gun at her hip. “Don’t bother. I’ll go talk to her myself.” 

_ “But Zavala--what about the rest of the Tower? Even if Ikora approves, the other Guardians won’t--” _

“Big place, gotta be somewhere I can sneak in.” 

  
_ “Analyzing the Tower’s schematics,”  _ Ember chirps--a tad begrudgingly, Aurora notes with a grin--and warps the world around them. Together, they fall away, transmatting into the stars. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave a kudo or a comment on your way out!


	5. heartbreak and homeward bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Aurora heads home and leaves, forging a new path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for how short this is! I wrote A Certain Scene and afterward...it just felt finished, so I let it end.

The most jarring thing about returning to the Last City is that it doesn’t look different at all. 

This time of year, the air grows colder; the whole Tower is preparing for the holiday season, waiting with bated breath for the beloved Dawning to arrive. 

The chill in the air brings with it a sense of subtle joy, palpable in the air as Aurora lands in the furthest depths of the last remaining haven. It turns her stomach. Everyone is  _ happy-- _ orange and black frames line the halls as she walks down, humming to one another as they work. What workers that are in the hall laugh and joke with each other as they complete their tasks. 

Nobody notices her as she walks by. 

“What did you say this part of the Tower was called again?” Aurora asks, frowning as she walks by yet another empty room. “I’ve never been down here before.”

_ “It’s called the Annex,”  _ Ember says, twirling mid-air as she appears.  _ “Currently, it’s used by the Vanguard and other operatives for storage, mostly, but it’s widely unused.”  _

“Weird.” Aurora pauses by one of the more narrow rooms--the walls are lit sickly green--and shakes her head. “They should use it more, it’s...nice down here. Quiet.”

_ “And wet,”  _ Ember remarks, twisting uneasily. 

Aurora laughs. 

The gray-black hall gives way to a more open space, filled to the brim with supply boxes and storage crates. A blue frame stands in the corner, a clipboard in its hands, checking off boxes.

“Inventory,” Aurora hums, slipping past it. “That’s rough, buddy.”

_ “You always talk to them like they can talk back.” _

“Hey, if I was stuck down here sweeping all day, I’d get lonely too.”

Slowly, the shadow-filled hallways of the Annex give way to the golden lights and dusty glow of the entryway that leads to the Bazaar; a huge, tree fills the wide space, filtering the sunlight onto the ground in a glossy green haze. 

Its scent fills the room with the smell of oak. Aurora breathes in deep and sighs. 

Ikora is waiting for her, up the stairs ahead and around the corner, into the Bazaar, by the ramen shop Cayde had gone to all the time--the ramen shop he’d invited her to more than once. 

The ramen shop Cayde would never sit at again. 

Tears well in Aurora’s eyes and she blinks them away angrily, marches up the stairs with her thoughts racing. 

_ Remember why you’re here.  _ It’s so easy--far too easy--to get lost in the laid-back nature of the Tower. To get lost in  _ memories-- _ memories of flying into the Hangar for the first time, wide-eyed and scared, memories of returning after Ghaul’s defeat--and in all the moments that led her here. 

Things are different now. 

  
Cayde is gone. 

_ The Vanguard are too scared to do anything about it.  _

It’s with that in mind that she finds the strength to continue up the stairs, around the corner and past the ramen shop, where the scent of noodles and freshly cooked meat permeates the air. As she rounds the corner, she catches a glimpse of a small paper posted tacked haphazardly up on the wall, Cayde depicted at its center, Golden Gun lifted high into the air. 

A lifetime of visiting the place, and the shop had elected only to put up a poster in Cayde’s memory?

_ Ridiculous,  _ Aurora thinks, barely holding back a snarl.  _ It isn’t enough.  _

In the back of her mind, she wonders if anything ever will be. 

“Guardian,” Ikora calls, as another few steps put Aurora right into her view. “Do you have a moment?”

Her voice betrays none of the concern Aurora knows she must be feeling. Aurora walks calmly over to her anyway, leans against the railing that rims Ikora’s overlook and hums, waiting for the Warlock leader to speak. 

“I can’t imagine what you must think of me,” Ikora murmurs, thoughtful. “To know that your own leaders struggle to act in the fact of such injustice--I’m sorry, Aurora.”

“The Tangled Shore is home to the Scorn--they’re Fallen, warped by some sort of Dark Ether. The Barons are the same.” Aurora says. 

“Aurora--”

“Tell me that I’m not alone in this, Ikora. Tell me you’ll ignore Zavala’s cowardice and  _ act, dammit!  _ Give me backup! Cayde is  _ gone!  _ Why am I fighting for vengeance on my  _ own? _ ”

Every word she’s saying is treason. Every word that spills from her lips is disrespectful and outrageous and  _ wrong,  _ but she can’t stop and even though there’s a fire blazing to life in Ikora’s eyes Aurora is brave enough to stand, dumb enough to continue. 

_ “Help me, _ ” she whispers, plaintive, voice raw.

But Ikora stands firm, her shoulders rigid, her jaw angled sharply toward the horizon as she shakes her head in stern resolution. “I cannot. Zavala will not change his mind. My hands are tied.”

Rage is a feeling Aurora knows well and she’s well aware of the way the air pops and sparks around her shoulders as she surges forward, inches away from Ikora’s face. 

“Then you’re just as much of a coward as he is.”

Breathless, she walks off, and Ikora doesn’t say a word.

For several moments. Aurora’s blood roars like thunder in her ears.

“You walk a fine line, Aurora,” Ikora says, her voice barely a whisper. “Don’t let your anger consume you.”

Aurora snarls, then flickers away. 

_ Cowards.  _

_ ~ _

In their jumpship, Ember lets Aurora sit in silence for a long, long time. 

_ “We need to talk about what just happened.”  _

“We really, really don’t.” 

Ember’s shell widens and constricts. Irritation flashes through their bond as her iris gleams brighter.  _ “You crossed a line back there.” _

“I know.” 

_ “The things you said…” _

Cursing, Aurora stands up and goes to the back of the ship. There isn’t much to the back room--it’s mostly storage, and a single cot stands shoved to one side of the room, covered in sheets and extra armor.

Aurora steadies herself against the walls of the ship and looks back toward Ember, eyes narrow. “I can’t go back.”

_ “If Ikora tells Zavala what you said…”  _

“She won’t. She  _ can’t-- _ ” 

_ “You made your decision,”  _ Ember says softly, “things will work out, you’ll see.” 

Aurora snorts. “You really think that?”

_ “I think you’re doing what you think is right,”  _ Ember says. “ _ That’s what matters.” _

Aurora nods, lets out a deep breath, and watches, waiting, as the Tangled Shore pops back into view, marbled purple clouds covering its surface. 

Her path is chosen. 

She lands back in the Thieves’ Den and prepares to raise hell. 


	6. tides and tangled yearning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aurora receives some bad news. 
> 
> Ember starts a log.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> something of an interlude chapter--I've been doing a lot in the way of preparing for future arcs of this fic, so writing the current chapters has been a bit slow, sorry!

_ “You’re getting stronger.” _

Aurora rolls over a rut in the cave floor, hissing as stone scrapes against skin. The Golden Gun roars to life in her hands as she turns to annihilate the Fallen servitor sputtering behind her. It falls, and the pieces of it land on the floor. The cave--a lost sector a stones’ throw from the Spider’s safehouse--is a wet and smelly thing, the prelude to a massive space that’s iron-wrought and lifted high into the air. 

She hates heights. 

“Stronger,” she mumbles, snorting. “You had to rez me after I fell off the cliff a second ago.”

_ “Twice,”  _ Ember reminds her, and Aurora just grins. 

But her smile fades as they wander back out into the Shore, immediately engulfed by the warzone that was the surrounding area. 

“They’ve got everything here,” Aurora mumbles, absentmindedly switching guns. “Fallen, Hive, Scorn...Cabal.” She wrinkles her nose. “Every time I think we’re done with the Cabal, they come back.”

_ “Cut off one head..” _

“Shut it, Ember.”

Ember appears around Aurora’s hands, her shell twisting and expanding as she examines the gun in Aurora’s grasp.  _ “Still using Crimson? Even with all the new weapons on the Shore?” _

“‘f it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,” Aurora shrugs.

“ _ Yeah but Aurora...that weapon is banned by the Vanguard.” _

Aurora snorts. “So am I.”

Midair, Ember goes still. “Aurora…”

“It was a  _ joke,  _ Little Light,” Aurora says, frowning a little. “You know, a joke? You’re s’posed to laugh--”

_ “Aurora.”  _ Delia’s voice crackles through the comms, crackling and static-ridden.  _ “I’m transmitting this message to your Ghost because honestly...I don’t know if I could tell you in person.” _

“The hell is this?” Aurora jerks backward, Crimson disappearing from her hands, and glares at Ember. “When did you get this?  _ When were you going to tell me?” _

_ “I was going to tell you when we killed the Rider, but then Ikora’s transmission came, and…” _

“Play the damn message,” Aurora snarls, lurching forward. “ _ Play it,  _ Ember, I swear--”

_ “You’re banned from the Tower, Aurora. Word around the City is that you had a fight with Ikora--Zavala’s not happy. Said you’re going off the grid and honestly...I think he’s right. What’re you thinking, Aurora? We were a fireteam, once. Then Cayde died and now you think you can just--look. I’m sorry. But I wanted you to hear it from me. Stay safe out there.” _

“Once--” Aurora’s fist slams into the wall behind her and she  _ screams,  _ a bitter, raw sound that echoes across the gulch and rattles into the sky. 

Memories--the sour kind, of missions fought and battles won and matches lost and moments spent  _ laughing, crying-- _ fill her head and her light comes without her calling, burns through her and through the surrounding area until the very air reeks of smoke and ash. 

Her throat constricts. With a strangled cry, she slumps against the wall and pulls her knees up close to her chest. Ember’s warmth fills their bond and Aurora sighs, leaning into its touch. 

_ “You need to rest,”  _ her Ghost tells her, and with a wince, Aurora obliges, doesn’t fight as the haze of transmat closes around her. 

~

_ Log One: Tangled Shore _

_ We’re on the ship again. Aurora is sleeping--I don’t think she realizes how tired she is, and I’m not sure she’ll ever really rest again. She’s angry. And sad. She has every right to be.  _

_ It’s hard, watching her like this. She’s doing the right thing, I think, but I just… something doesn’t feel right. Something is wrong--I don’t know what. I don’t know if I want to find out.  _


	7. glimmer and gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Trickster falls.

The first time it happens, she assumes it’s a joke. 

The second time it happens, she blows through the entire lost sector in a blast of scarlet flame. 

The third time it happens, she heads straight for the Spider. 

He appraises her quickly when she enters, covered in soot and drenched in a white powder that saturates every inch of her armor. She’s still coughing from the blast that sent her over the edge--whatever the powder is, it smells worse than the Cabal, and she wants it  _ off.  _

“Ah,” the Spider rumbles, leaning back on his throne. “I see you’ve met the Trickster.”

_ “One of the Barons,”  _ Ember clarifies in Aurora’s ear.  _ “I’ve been researching. She’s...apparently...hard to deal with.” _

“‘We’ve met alright,” Aurora snorts, shaking her head. “She’s been harassing me since I killed the Rider. Tampering with my engrams. Explosive glimmer.  _ Exploding. Glimmer.”  _

“And isn’t that just like you Guardians--so trusting, so...delightfully  _ greedy.  _ Put her down, just like the rest.” The Spider laughs, deep in his chest. “And perhaps...for the time being, leave the valuables where they lie?

“What a waste,” Aurora mumbles, turning with a huff. “Waste of a perfectly good engram--”

But the Spider’s words ring in her head as she walks out of the Safehouse, and she wonders, reddening, exactly how many Guardians the Spider’s met--how many required to be able to predict her greed?

_ “You nearly stole from the Spider before you met him,”  _ Ember reminds her, and Aurora sighs, loud and long.

“The Trickster,” she says, batting the little Ghost out of her face. “You said you were doing research?”

_ “Here and there. The Barons are--well, they’re powerful. They all have a role to play among the Scorn. The Trickster’s thing is traps, just like the engrams from before.” _

Aurora nods, her jaw set. The traps had been gold and multi-sided, and they’d glittered just like the engrams that are so rare in the Shore. She hasn’t seen any in  _ ages,  _ and  _ three times now  _ she’s fallen for the Trickster’s trap.

She’s used to finding things out in the Wilds--glimmer, engrams, armor, guns--and now she’s stranded in a sea of rocks, far from home and far from the Vaults in which some of her best pieces were kept. 

_ “You’re homesick,”  _ Ember says, and Aurora nods, pensive. 

_ “We could probably go back, after all of this is over.”  _ Ember says.  _ “Zavala may be angry right now, but I’m sure he understands why you’re doing this.” _

“Why we’re  _ both  _ doing this,” Aurora says, and Ember’s eye twinkles. 

_ “For Cayde.” _

And it is.

~

The next time they find a patch of glimmer on the ground, Aurora summons Ember for analysis.

_ “I think I can track it,”  _ Ember says,  _ “but the source is...confusing. It feels like it’s everywhere. There’s too much data--” _

A warbling laugh breaks over the comms. 

Aurora stands up and turns around, boots nudging away from the glimmer in the dirt. “Let me guess,” she drawls, one hand on Crimson. “The Trickster.”

_ “Ahh, you’ve heard of me!”  _ Comes the shrill, excited response.  _ “I’ve certainly heard of you! The Guardian who defeated my sister. Come to get vengeance for your friend? Your Cayde? You’ll have to get through me first!” _

Her voice grates against Aurora’s ears.

_ “I do wonder what’s so special about you,”  _ the Trickster sneers,  _ “you Guardians are… small. Insignificant. One of thousands. You think you’re special? Chosen? You’re a speck! Face me! Die! Die! Die!” _

“I already hate her.”

Ember sighs. Her shell expands outward, revealing the blue-white of her middle. A soft, static hum emanates from the extended shell as she searches, finally coming together with a soft  _ click. “I’ve found her,”  _ she says,  _ “in a place called...Diaviks’ Mine? That’s--oh! That’s the source of the energy coming off of the fake glimmer!”  _ Her shell spins excitedly.  _ “We did it! We-- why are you staring at me?” _

“That’s--I’ve lost count of the amount of times random people have hacked into our comms.” 

_ “It’s--” _

“--a private channel! Fix it! Block them out or something!”

Ember disappears, but Aurora can feel her embarrassment through their bond. She sighs, then summons the orange-shelled Ghost and holds her in her hand, fingers curled affectionately around her shell. 

Light radiates between them--Ember’s version of a smile. 

~

She’s unprepared for the amount of Cabal in Soriks’s Cut. 

They’re everywhere; Centurions and Legionaries stand atop the huge steely structures that mark the ground. Psions stand in between the rocks, their guns raised, waiting to strike at the moment their target’s vulnerable and unsuspecting. 

There are Hive too, and Fallen, and Scorn. She’s surrounded and for a moment the Vanguard-loyal Guardian in her aches to clear the area, but logic takes over. The Shore will clear in time. For now, when the Trickster is still in the distance, taking advantage of her enemies’ confusion is in her best interests, nothing more. 

Still, it hurts, leaving so many enemies sitting around the Shore. 

She wonders if the Spider would approve.

She wonders why she cares. 

Bad memories--at the foot of a cliff that leads to a white-marked Lost Sector, her mind flickers back to the day Ghaul kicked her off the edge of his ship, Lightless, and sent her down to die on the Cabal-ridden grounds below. 

He hadn’t cared. She’d fallen and she’d survived, and she’d awoken with the stench of Cabal fluids and dead rot around her, every inch of her helpless, weak. 

She’s not weak now, but sometimes, staring at something as simple as a cliff--something she wouldn’t have second guessed  _ before,  _ when she’d been stronger, foolish--gives her pause. 

_ Later,  _ she tells herself, and makes a mental promise to kill every single Cabal that stands on the Shore. 

She can sense Ember in her thoughts, listening, but her Ghost doesn’t say anything and Aurora wonders if she blames herself. 

_ It’s not your fault.  _

~

She finds the Mine eventually. 

It’s small, narrow entrance is a split in a rock wall, golden stone parting to reveal a dimly-lit corridor that reeks of mildew. The muddy floor is slick beneath her feet as she treads softly, gaze picking up the slightest sheen in the ground. 

There’s nothing but dirt. 

She’s almost disappointed. 

Slowly, the corridor widens into a slightly bigger space. She takes out Crimson, quickly takes care of the Scorn that litter the shadowed corners. They snarl at her, enraged by her presence, and she’s once again amazed by how powerful they are--broken creatures made new, emboldened by foul ether, given new powers and  _ ow, _ do their blows hurt. 

She heals quickly, but as she crosses into the next room, she looks down at the marks on her armor and shakes her head. It isn’t enough. She’s not strong enough. She’s not enough. 

The Trickster waits. 

The cave--because that’s all it is, really, a cave, emptied of anything that could have given it value--is hollowed out but it’s not flat. She’s grateful for that; the ridges and water give her places to hide, away from the Scorn Raiders and away from the Trickster’s watching eyes.

The fake glimmer on the ground gives her room away. 

Aurora walks in and  _ shit  _ the Trickster is  _ tall.  _

“Guardian!” The Baron screeches, ambling toward Aurora with her hands extended outward. “You’re so much smaller than I thought you’d be!”

“And you,” Aurora mumbles, fumbling for her scout rifle, “are so much more annoying.”

The Trickster snarls, but it’s almost an excited sound--giddy. Her Scorn swarm around her feet, lifting their rifles into the air. 

Aurora ducks down onto one knee, eyes fixated on the sights of her rifle, and  _ sneers.  _

~

The bombs are her least favorite part. 

She comes close to dying three times. 

But every time the world starts to spin, the back of her neck prickles and she’s struck by the sensation that she’s being  _ watched-- _ the memory of Sundance clattering cold to the floor fills her mind and she wards Ember away, out of sight, out of danger. 

She leans against a nearby rock then catches her breath. 

Her Light is hot in her hands. 

~

_ The Rifleman watches through the scope of his weapon, keen eyes locked firmly on the Guardian with the scarlet flames swirling around her shoulders. Her Ghost is nowhere to be seen. She takes out the Scorn efficiently and swiftly, and when the time comes to turn her attention to Araskes...well.  _

_ The Trickster falls.  _

_ ~ _

Elsewhere, on his throne, the Awoken Prince sets his palace aflame. 

His Barons are gone. Those that remain are out on the Shore, sowing chaos, just as he’d ordered. As for himself...well. Destiny is calling, and his… his is the most important task of all.

~

_ The Darkness waits.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!! leave a kudos on your way out <3


	8. iron light and emeralds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which a new character is introduced and an old character resurfaces

In the months during the Red War, Era had fought from the shadows. 

The EDZ was--and remains--in a cataclysmic state. Cabal are everywhere. Taken crawl in the underbelly of every nook and cranny. In the spaces where the sun doesn’t touch, Hive swarm and fill the shadows with their screams. 

Her home is here. Has been, for months. 

When Slip brings her the news that Cayde has been killed, it changes everything for Era. 

Her Ghost spins silently in the air, waiting for her to speak. When she says nothing, he zooms in close to her faceplate and bumps up against her temple, his iris glinting a pretty jade green. 

_ “What are you going to do now?”  _

Era looks forward and lets a long sigh come through her respirator. “I don’t know.”

_ “Cayde is gone...I wonder who they’ve picked to be the next Hunter Vanguard.” _

Era chuckles. “You know that’s not how that works.”

_ “I can dream, can’t I?” _

“Hunters aren’t Titans.” Era’s mind whirls. “I’m more concerned with how the Vanguard will respond.”

_ “If we went back to the Tower--” _

“No.” Era stands up and holsters her weapon--a long-barreled sniper with gray coloring that’s long scratched and scraped away--behind her back.

Slip appears again and zips around her back, staring. A moment later, the sniper’s weight leaves her back and Slip comes to face her, his iris blue.  _ “Dangerous,”  _ he tells her,  _ “you could trip over that.” _

Era blinks and bats her Ghost away from her face. “I am not,” she says slowly, “going to trip over my own sniper. And besides--it’s not like we’re going far.”

_ “Where  _ are  _ we going?” _

“If anyone knows what’s happening in the Last City, it’ll be Shiro,” Era says. “If my gut’s right, he’ll stay there until the Vanguard tells him otherwise.”

_ “You don’t...have guts.”  _

“Now is  _ not  _ the time.”

_ “Anatomy jokes are fun!”  _

“ _ Slip--”  _ Era grabs her Ghost in her hand and squeezes, gently, affection warming her tone as she says, “send a message to Shiro for me. Let him know we’re coming.”

_ “Will do.” _

Shiro-4. 

Era leans back against the cool stones of the wreckage she’s been using as a home and shuts her eyes. The memories are there in an instant--old, but still clear as the day she’d lived them--and she can almost hear the voices of her old friends singing and screaming as they’d fought alongside her, centuries ago.

Ages ago, when the message saying that the Cosmodrome had reopened came across the comms, she’d almost gone. It’s too close--the Cosmodrome still bears the scars of Siva, and the Splicers reek of the energy the foul red tech that destroyed everything Era holds dear. 

_ That was centuries ago,  _ she thinks, inwardly wishing she could pry away the guilt that thrums so powerfully in her chest. She should be past this. It isn’t like her to hold such remorse. 

Losing her fellow Iron Lords had marked her in ways she was still only beginning to understand. It still aches as if it’s a new wound. And yet...and yet. 

The Dead Zone is as far as she can go. 

Something echoes in her head and she knows if she had a heart it would be racing; when Slip appears again, whirring, she stands and readies for transmat. “Message received?”

_ “Affirmative,”  _ her Ghost chirps,  _ “Lord Saladin is away. Shiro’s still at the Temple, though. Waiting.”  _

“Did he say anything?”

_ “Only that you have a lot to talk about.”  _ Slip huffs.  _ “I could have told you that.” _

Era stands up again. 

The sun is just rising. The world smells like grass and dew, and the sky’s just turning blue from behind pink-edged clouds.

_ “Will you be okay?”  _ Slip asks her.  _ “This is the first time you’ve been back since…”  _

Era flinches. 

_ ‘Maybe that’s not a good question,”  _ Slip says, shuffling his shell uneasily.  _ “Should we go?” _

“Better do it now, before I lose my resolve.” Era clenches her hands together and shuts her eyes, willing the sun to warp its rays around her, filling her with new strength. “Do it.”

The world crumbles away.

~

The fires of the Iron Temple still burn. 

The overlook on which Era lands peers out at the forest beneath; on the other side, the Cosmodrome stands, free of Siva’s wreckage.

Snow covers the entire fortress. Above her, the massive tower in which the monuments to the old Lords stand is smoking, sending plumes of gray trailing off into the cloudless sky. Again, a sensation like joy and dread twists in her chest. She takes a tentative step forward, her boots crunching in the snow, and starts the descent down the stairs, careful to avoid slipping. 

Two Frames stand on opposite ends of a larger break in the architecture. They’re old and bored-looking, and they look at her with interest as she passes by. 

“Greetings, Guardian,” one of them intones, and Era looks at it, taken aback by the term. 

_ Guardian.  _ She hasn’t thought of herself as such in a long, long time. 

_ Lightbearer,  _ maybe. An unfortunate side-effect of being one of the Travelers’ chosen. Even  _ rogue-- _ she’s that too, hasn’t been one of the Vanguard’s weapons in a long time--but most of all she’s a  _ coward,  _ she doesn’t deserve to be a  _ Guardian,  _ much less a  _ Lord.  _

“My name,” she tells the Frame sternly, “is Era-3.”

It blinks at her, too scared to say a word.

She walks by it and tries to ignore her shame. 

Her silent rejection of the titles she once held does nothing to change the fact that the wolves recognize her when she walks to the top of the cliff. 

“Shh, old one,” she murmurs when the wolf to her left rises to acknowledge her presence. “I’m just passing through.”

“Era-3.” Shiro’s voice breaks the silence, a familar mark upon the otherwise quiet grounds. “It’s been a long time.”

“Shiro.” Era looks up and finds the scout leaning against one of the columns of the monument’s hall. “Good to see you’re still around.”

He snorts, straightening as he stands. His cloak trails behind him. “Takes a bit more than some Splicers to--” he cuts off. 

Era grimaces. 

“I’m sorry. That was insensitive.”

“It was centuries ago,” Era says, “the fault is mine. Old pains.” Things a Ghost couldn’t heal.

Shiro looks at her--what for, what he’s thinking, Era can’t tell--and then he turns toward the horizon, avoiding her gaze. “Cayde is gone.” 

The world shatters, crumbles, and  _ breaks  _ around her. 

“No,” she says, her voice shaking, “he isn’t. He can’t be.”

Some part of her had refused to believe it was true.

“He took a mission into the Reef with Petra Venj,” Shiro says, “they encountered a resistance--the breakout they went to prevent escalated. The Scorn--”

“The Scorn?” 

“Former Fallen mutated by Dark Ether.” 

Era growls. 

“--the Scorn ambushed Cayde and killed him. They Barons that orchestrated the attack were led by the Awoken Prince, Uldren Sov.”

“Uldren,” Era whispers. “I’ve had dealings with him before.”

Hatred, hot and fierce, burns in her gut and her whole body goes stiff. She’s hot. The sun burns down on her armor and the Light within her is steady and bright as she makes eye contact with Shiro again. 

“Era,” Shiro begins, but she cuts him off. 

“Tell me,” she says, snarling, “that the Vanguard ordered an operation to get Uldren.”

His eyes narrow. “The opposite.” 

_ “Damn.”  _ She scuffs her boot against the snow, sending ice up against the wall. “They’re not doing anything about it?”

“I wouldn’t say  _ that,”  _ Shiro says slowly, carefully. “There’s a Guardian--the same Guardian that went with Cayde to the Reef-in the Tangled Shore right now, one a one-rogue path to taking down the Barons.”

“ _ One Guardian?”  _ Era echoes. “Are they insane?”

“She,” Shiro says, with a huff that’s more like a laugh than anything else. “Is the first Guardian to take the title of  _ Iron Lord  _ in centuries.” 

Once again, Era’s world  _ shifts.  _ “There’s a new Iron Lord?”

“Whole generation of ‘em,” Shiro says, “why do you think I’ve stuck around here?” He pauses, then sighs. “Listen, Era. Zavala has a lot on his shoulders right now. Aurora...going off like that has been hard on him and Ikora both.”

“Is this Guardian really so important?”

“You’ve been gone a long time,” Shiro says. “Aurora’s killed gods. Slain monsters that came straight out of myth. She’s powerful. Saladin even got her a sword.” 

Era laughs. “The old man got the new kid a sword?” 

“He calls her ‘Young Wolf’,” Shiro says, “and she is.” 

He looks toward the entrance to the hall of monuments. Era follows his gaze to the middle of the wider room and  _ gasps.  _

The sword is scarlet, perfectly positioned in the ground so that it throws rays of pure orange light on the walls around it. The hilt is gold and shining; from here, she can see a dozen or so minute scratches that line the edges of the blade, but it shines with a light that fills her with warmth--with  _ hope.  _

The decision is set in her mind and she wonders if Shiro can sense her resolve when she looks back at him. “You said her name was Aurora?” 

He nods. 

“And she’s in the Reef,” Era says, “alone.”

Shiro nods, slower this time. 

A beat. 

“Era,” the scout says, “what exactly are you planning on doing?” 

“The Barons must fall,” Era says. “Uldren must pay.”

“The Vanguard specifically said--”

“The Vanguard are concerned with one thing and one thing only--the City is their priority. They can’t take vengeance for themselves. That’s why they’ll need  _ us.”  _

“I can’t go with you,” Shiro says, “my place is here.”

“And I wouldn’t force you to go,” Era says. “But somewhere out there, there’s a Guardian who’s fighting on her own. Guardians work better together. Iron Lords most of all.” She can finally feel it again--the hope and belief and faith that had tied her together to her Iron Lord brothers and sisters. “I have a Guardian to find.”


	9. ambition and virtue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Aurora makes a move and Era...interrupts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got long and I'm not sorry

When she pulls up the list of the Barons left on the Shore, the Rifleman’s name immediately catches her eye. 

_ “The Rifleman is the one who made the shot that killed Sundance,”  _ Ember says,  _ “and turned Cayde Lightless.”  _

Aurora picks a pebble from the ground and throws it at the wall of the Safehouse. “So basically,” she says, “you have to stay out of sight.” 

Ember bumps into the side of Aurora’s head.  _ “What if you die?” _

“I won’t die. Simple as that.” 

Ember stares at her--though it feels more like a glare. 

_ “Someone has to be there to bring you back, and I’m the only one who can.” _

“I know you don’t believe me, but I can go without dying. Sometimes.”

_ “The last time you did that--” _

“Bring up my weapons inventory?” 

Ember stares at her, whirs, then brings up the data without another word. 

_ Hand cannon, hand cannon, pulse rifle--  _ “Don’t I have a scout in here?” Aurora grunts, rifling through the inventory’s contents. “I--  _ shit,  _ I left it all at the Tower, didn’t I?” 

_ “Most of it.”  _ Ember contemplates, shifts a little mid-air.  _ “Not all of it.” _

“What--” Aurora brushes through to the last side, then stops.  _ “Oh.”  _

Polaris Lance. 

_ “The explosions from the catalyst will probably help take out the Scorn,”  _ Ember says.  _ “What about--” _

“I never finished clocking the data needed to complete the catalyst.”

_ “What?! You’ve had this for months!”  _

With a groan, Aurora pulls the rifle out of the air and twists it through her fingers, her palms quietly grasping its smooth grip. “The weapon’s perk,” she says, tapping it, “is explosions. The catalyst requires kills off the explosion alone.”

_ “It doesn’t sound that hard--” _

“I can kill things faster if I just shoot them!”

Ember groans, her iris blinking in the Ghost approximation of an eye-roll.  _ “You’re intolerable.” _

“You love me anyway.”

_ “Do I?”  _

_ ~ _

_ Scout rifle equipped, hand cannon for the short range, rocket launcher for an extra boost-- _

_ ~ _

Uldren Sov, Prince of the crumbling Awoken empire, stood at the edge of the void and  _ sneered.  _

A Shard of the Traveler stands firm in the water beyond the patch of land where he stands. The forest was silent, a wasteland of shadows and bluish trees, but at least he’s alone. 

A branch cracks, shattering the silence. 

Alone--or so he’d thought.

The Ace of Spades is cold in his hand as he makes his way slowly toward the Shard. Another branch cracks and this time, when his gaze flickers toward the source of the sound, he catches another pair of eyes staring at him from behind the underbrush. The Fallen Dreg walks low to the ground, its teeth bared, it’s voice rumbling and furious as it speaks.

Uldren, with the hand not holding his weapon, lifts his hand palm-outward. The Dreg stops. Then, with another flurry of incomprehensible speech, it  _ bows.  _

He can almost hear his sister behind him, feel her presence meld against his skin. 

More Fallen come and fall before him, bowing low to the ground. Whatever he thought they’d do--whatever attempt he thought they’d make to stop him--is a pointless fear in his mind now. He walks forward, into the water, and makes its way toward the Shard. 

It feels...bright. 

And the sensation is wrong somehow, like the Shard is an itch he can’t quite scratch, and provokes a feeling he doesn’t quite have a word for. Mara’s will urges him forward, but the Ace of Spades feels colder in his hands as he walks, 

_ “Be brave,”  _ Mara whispers, and Uldren nods, rolls his shoulders once, twice. 

He raises his hand and fires until his gun clicks twice, empty. The Shard smokes where the bullets hit it, the glimmering stone cracked away to reveal a white gemstone flash beneath. 

_ “Take it,”  _ Mara orders, and Uldren nods, squeezes the Ace of Spades in his trembling hand. 

The Shard feels  _ wrong.  _

_ “Be brave,”  _ comes the echo, and he wonders if his unease makes him a coward. 

He reaches in and grabs a crystal. 

His world  _ ignites,  _ but only for a moment. 

With the crystal in hand he has the power to get everything he’s ever wanted. 

With the crystal in hand he--

~

“This plan of yours,” the Spider drawls, “is rather...risky.” 

“That’s the job,” Aurora says, a knife in hand. She runs the blade over the rag in her hand and looks up at the hulking Eliksni above her. “Get in, I get out. Out-rifle the Rifleman then boom--three down, five to go.”

“Your naivete is disconcerting,” the Spider mumbles, one of his hands twisting a dirty Ghost shell through his fingers. “The Rifleman is the Baron--”

“Who killed Cayde’s Ghost, I know. Good shot. Guess what? I’m better.”

“Pride will get you nowhere, little one. Real skill--raw talent--those will serve you best. Perhaps… if you had more of the latter, your job would already be done.” 

Scarlet light flares between Aurora’s fingers as she lurches forward, her temper flaring. “I’m doing the best I can.”

“ _ Do it faster.”  _ The Spider leans forward too and the guards that stand below him raise their spears toward Aurora, who steps backward, limbs going cold.  _ “ _ More of the Shore slips from my grasp by the day. Get rid of the Barons, or it’s  _ you  _ who will pay the price.”

Aurora’s jaw tightens. “I’m just one Guardian.”

“And a Guardian’s worth an army--or haven’t you heard the stories?” The Spider’s eyes twinkle. “Maybe you’re just weak.” 

_ “You--” _

“Get out,” snarls the Spider, before Aurora can craft a scathing enough retort, “and go get back my Shore.” 

~

_ “Is everything ready?” _

~

The Jetsam of Saturn is a monument to what once was. 

In the distance, the lavender sky is illuminated by the shadows of the wreckage that spreads across the stars. A massive tower stands alone, surrounded by mountains. Closer, stretching the length of the horizon, the mountains dip down into a series of craggy peaks, each more dangerous-looking than the last.

_ “This area’s topography is making it difficult to figure out these coordinates,”  _ Ember says.  _ “The Rifleman isn’t the same as the others--he doesn’t exactly have one place he hides. And this whole place is...saturated with Hive magic. I don’t like this--I don’t like it one bit.” _

“I don’t either.” She can’t feel what Ember feels, but her Ghost’s fear needles its way into Aurora’s chest, cold and sharp. Uneasy, she checks and re-checks that the knives at her hip are all in place. Crimson is at her back. There’s a scout rifle behind her shoulder. 

She shuts her eyes and breathes in deep, letting the Light within her bubble to the surface, warming her skin. 

She’s terrified. In the moment before she walks further into the cliffs, she realizes it’s because she feels like she’s walking into a trap. 

It’s not an unusual feeling--it’s one she’s familiar with. She’s been in this same position dozens of times, and she keeps walking into danger anyway. For the Last City. For the Vanguard. For her fellow Guardians. 

And she’ll keep doing it, as long as she needs to. 

“Stay out of sight,” she tells Ember, and walks toward the peaks. 

~

Everything is fine, at first. 

The Rifleman’s almost exactly what Aurora expected; maniacal and proud, he hangs in the background as Aurora hunts, shouting at her from afar. His armor is thick and heavy, his aim true as he peppers the ground with shots from above. 

The first time the light figures appear, they nearly get her. Their two shots criss-cross in the edges of Aurora’s vision, and the heat they leave sizzles in the air and buzzes beneath her skin. Her arm aches. Her armor is scratched and chipped, drawing blood where the remnants leave her arm exposed. 

“Foolish Guardian,” the Rifleman croaks, “you’ve stepped into a fight you cannot win.”

Aurora grits her teeth. 

One shot--the scout rifle clicks in Aurora’s hand and the light copy shatters into glimmering fragments. Quickly, before the Rifleman can vanish again, she fires once, twice, staggering him. 

“He’s too far away--” she runs toward the cliff where the Rifleman stands, drops her rifle into place on her back and jumps, rolls over the surface of one of the smaller cliffs. The Rifleman stands beyond her laughing, and with a snarl, she pulls for the Void. 

It’s cold in her hands--one of the reasons she often favors Solar Light over the Void’s touch--but it has the distance she needs and her aim with the Golden Gun isn’t...reliable. 

“You think to defeat me with a  _ bow? _ ” The Rifleman leers at her, laughing. “Foolish, foolish, you--”

Aurora fires. 

When the tether takes hold, the Rifleman’s shriek echoes off the walls of the cliffs. The second and third shots tether his hands to either side of the massive stone cavern that yawns behind him. 

Aurora jumps again, falls to the edge of the cliff and snags one hand on the edge. She pulls herself up and levels Crimson toward the Rifleman, her lips curling into a sneer. 

“Looks like--”

_ “NOW!”  _ The Rifleman screams. 

Several things happen at once. 

An emerald haze ripples across the cavern floor, filling the space with fog. The tethers Aurora left snap and pop as they disappear, setting the Rifleman free. 

And as Aurora jerks backward, her hands waving through empty air, intent on summoning the Void back to her grasp, nothing happens--another wave and the Solar Light within her falls silent too. 

Her palms itch and she struggles to summon even Arc Light to her hands. For a terrible moment, she reaches for the Light in any way she can and she can feel its strength leaving her; the energy pours from her body and when she tries to stand, vivid green snarls of light tangle around her limbs, drawing her closer to the ground. 

The Barons are laughing at her. 

“Ember--” she reaches for her Ghost but there’s no response. Her connection to the Light is just... _ gone,  _ vanished as if it never existed, and the emptiness in her bones is exhausting. 

“You’re trapped now,” a new voice taunts, “trapped trapped trapped, like a bug in a web. What will you do now? Your power is gone. We’ve protected our brothers and our sisters. You will die.”

_ Die.  _ A permanent death. Without the Light, she’ll die and be dead forever--no time left to finish what she’s started. She  _ can’t-- _ she  _ won’t. _

She still has her guns. 

The Hive tethers give way and with a grunt Aurora hauls herself to her feet, taking Crimson in her hand once more. Her aim is shaky. The world blurs around her. She fires--

And a Hive knight drops to the ground with a sword in its hand. Three Acolytes fill the ground behind it. She fires, but her hand is trembling and the Knight gets closer. Its sword falls, cutting into the broken part of her armor, biting into the skin, cutting into her shoulder and up into her neck and cheek. 

Aurora  _ screams.  _

Ice crawls up her spine. The Barons are moving closer, an army of Scorn and Hive surrounding them. She is helpless. Useless. Weak. 

**_Weakness in the light. Strength in the darkness._ **

She’s cold. 

A shot rings out. 

The Rifleman falls. 

The other Baron roars, then cries out. 

The green haze covering the cavern floor disappears. 

_ “Aurora!” _

Light surges through Aurora’s veins and she stands, born anew, power washing through her as a red, furious energy fills her entire body. No longer do her hands shake as she lifts them, palms outward, a raw, angry yell ripping through her throat until it aches. 

Sunlight filters down and fills her, and her mind clicks into focus. She  _ runs,  _ toward the edge of the cliff where the Baron who’d trapped her is standing, and  _ pulls,  _ tugging on the Light as much as she can stand.

The world burns around her. She scorches through the Hive and the ranks of Scorn, doesn’t even think when she makes her way to the second Baron. She reaches for the Light again and tugs, grabbing for something, anything, doesn’t look when something warm and solid falls into her hands. She moves with it, driving the weapon into the Baron’s stomach, and uses her other hand to drive a knife into his neck. 

The Baron falls. 

For a single moment, Aurora stands, victorious. 

Then she wobbles, collapses to the ground with a groan. 

_ “Aurora,”  _ Ember murmurs, appearing over her, her voice soft, sad.  _ “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”  _

She blacks out before she can answer. 

~

The scene around them is unlike anything Era’s seen in a long, long time. 

The fallen Hive and Scorn are still burning, filling the whole clifftop in heavy smoke. The hulking bodies of what must be the Scorn Barons on the ground are still and unmoving, their corpses burned and smoldering. The knife the Guardian--Aurora--had left in the Hive-armored Baron is still in its neck, and the remnants of the hammer she’d wielded are embedded in its side. 

“Well well,” Era says, drawing the attention of Aurora’s Ghost. “Looks like I got here just in time.”

Immediately, the Ghost freezes, halfway through resurrecting its fallen Guardian. 

_ “Who are you?”  _ She asks, her iris twinkling. She twirls her shell, uneasy.  _ “Who sent you?”  _

“No one sent me,” Era answers, blinking. “I came on my own.” 

_ “Why?” _

“Why?” Era echoes, scowling. “Your Guardian nearly died her final death just now, and you’re asking  _ why?” _

Another twirl.  _ “You’re right. I…”  _ She finishes rezzing Aurora then waits, drawing herself upward.  _ “Thank you.”  _

Aurora comes to with a gasp. “What _ \--where-- _ ”

“Easy, Guardian.” Era holds up her hands. “The Barons are dead. We killed them.”

Aurora blinks.  _ “We?”  _

_ “I’m Ember,”  _ says her Ghost,  _ “and...you seem to know who Aurora is.” _

Aurora frowns. “I--I have no idea what’s going on.” 

_ “Your confusion is warranted, seeing as how close you came to dying,”  _ says Slip, appearing a few inches away from Era’s face.  _ “Are you alright?”  _

Aurora nods, then slowly shakes her head. “I feel...weird.”

_ “Weird how?”  _ Ember asks. 

Aurora shrugs, then slowly stands, dusting off her clothes. She reaches back and adjusts the cloth behind her--a cloak. A  _ cloak.  _

A second ago, when Era had arrived, Aurora had been wielding a  _ hammer.  _ A hammer normally wielded by  _ Titans.  _

It’s been  _ centuries  _ since she’s seen anyone wield the Light outside of their designated class. 

“You just went through a hell of a thing,” Era says, “and like Slip said, you...have every right to be confused. Listen. I’m Era--I heard from Shiro about what you’re trying to do. The Vanguard didn’t send me. I’m here to help.”

Aurora flinches, and her eyes are a thousand miles away as she stands, still wobbly on her feet. She keeps rubbing her arm--an arm that’s very much still bleeding, much to the concern of her hovering Ghost. 

“You need to rest,” Era says, drawing Slip close. “You’ve been through a lot. You--”

“I’m  _ fine,”  _ says Aurora, indignant. “I go through stuff like this all the time. I--  _ ow, Ember-- _ ” She pulls her hand from her forearm and looks at her fingers. Her eyes widen; her fingers come away stained with blood. 

Ember’s shell widens and glows as she survey’s the wound.  _ “It’s permeated with Hive energy,”  _ she says, tense.  _ “I can’t heal it. It’s...going to have to heal on its own.” _

Slowly, Aurora reaches up and runs her hand gingerly over the gash. It’s worst near her shoulder--a deep wound that’s still oozing blood--but the gash goes all the way up to her neck, thinning out near her temple.

“It’s going to scar,” she whispers, and there’s no vanity in her words, just...shock. 

“When I dropped in, you were seconds away from dying,” Era says. “Ember...wasn’t around.” 

_ “I couldn’t feel you.”  _ Ember says.  _ “It was like...you were gone.” _

“I felt it,” Aurora murmurs, “I couldn’t use my Light. I couldn’t feel you. I was helpless.”

Her eyes narrow. She looks past Era’s shoulder and twitches, just slightly, her whole expression still miles away, fervently distracted by something Era can’t feel, can’t hear.

Era looks at Aurora and sees the eyes of a terrified Guardian--someone who’s been close to death before, someone who’s been afraid before and fought anyway. “You can figure out what happened later,” she says, careful to keep her tone gentle. “Right now, you need to rest.”

Aurora’s expression shifts. “Nowhere to go,” she says. “Ships’ too small…”

“The Tower?” 

“About that,” Aurora mumbles, reddening. “Banned.”

“Banned,” Era echoes. “From the  _ Tower.” _

_ “We’re...not supposed to be out here.”  _ Ember says. 

Era reaches up and rubs at her faceplate, torn between amusement and horror. “Right. Anywhere here safe enough to rest for a while?” 

“Maybe,” Aurora says, “but the Spider...isn’t exactly…”

“You’re working for  _ Spider?”  _

“You know him?” 

_ “She’s old,”  _ Slip says, and Era bats him out of the air. 

“Anywhere’s better than out in the open,” she says. “Rest now, explain later.”

Aurora shrugs, then summons Ember back to her hand and says, “follow me.”

Era does. 

~

The Spider is, understandably, confused when they arrive. 

“You look like hell,” he rumbles as Era enters, a dazed Aurora leaning against her side. 

“Shut it,” Era growls back, glaring at him. “She needs to rest. Keep your guards away from her.” 

The Spider leans forward, his beady eyes gleaming. “I don’t take orders from your kind,” he snarls, growling low in his throat. “Especially cowards like you.”

The retort he wants sits in Era’s chest but she silences it, moves Era slowly to a side room that’s filled with crates and old antiques. It smells like shit. She wishes there was somewhere else they could hide. 

For the Chosen One of the Last City, Aurora’s...made some unfortunate decisions.

“Make sure she sleeps,” Era tells Ember. “I’m serious--she makes one move to the door and you transmat her back here. Got it?”

_ “Got it,”  _ Ember says, sounding slightly… scared. 

_ “Good job,”  _ Slip says in her ear,  _ “first friendly Ghost we’ve met in centuries and she’s terrified of you.” _

Era stands up and arches her back, then turns toward the Spider’s room. “Slip…”

_ “Yes?”  _ Her Ghost asks, twitching mischievously. 

“Shut up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! <3


	10. twin sparks and broken bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Aurora makes a friend and Era is already done with the Young Wolf.

_ The darkness is after her again. _

_ It’s a silence that buzzes in her chest, a cold that takes over the space where the light once filled. The emptiness aches and she wonders, at the end of this, if she’ll remember the pain. The ache.  _

_ She’s-- she comes close to answering the whispers, once. When she’s attacked by the Cabal outside of the City. when she makes her way to the Shard. They went away when she got her Light back, and so did the pain, and so did the ache.  _

_ The nightmares have stayed.  _

_ But the whispers… _

_ “Aurora?”  _

_...they’re back now.  _

She wakes up with a start. 

Ember is hovering above her, her shell splayed outward to reveal the silvery-white iris hiding beneath.  _ “Are you alright?” _

Aurora shakes her head, then shivers deeper into the pile of blankets over her. “No.”

_ “Nightmares again?” _

“Red War,” Aurora says, grimacing. “Always the Red War.”

Ember’s shell constricts. Her iris dims.  _ “You said they’d stopped--” _

Footsteps echo through the hallway and Aurora jolts upward--remembering, far too late, the jagged cut in her arm.

“The coward returns,” says the Spider with an amused laugh. “I take it you were...successful?”

“Very,” answers a voice Aurora barely recognizes. “The Mad Bomber,  _ well. _ ”

_ “Went up in smoke,”  _ says a Ghost. 

Aurora scowls, still rubbing her arm. “Who are they?” 

_ “Era-3 and Slip. They rescued us last night. You...do remember what happened, don’t you?”  _

Aurora grimaces. “I remember--”

“You were ambushed.” A tall exo enters, her green eyes twinkling in the lowlights of the Safehouse. “The Rifleman was a facade--the Mindbender was the real heavyweight out of the two of them, and he rigged a trap just for you.” Her eyes narrow as she sits down. “Did it occur to you that you might be walking into a trap? Or did you just walk in anyway?” 

Aurora’s arm burns when she tries to stand and when she looks down, there’s blood seeping between the thickly-wrapped bandages, staining them. 

_ “ _ Sit _ down,  _ Aurora-- _ ” _

“Gotta--” she stands, and the whole world spins. She leans against the back wall and shuts her eyes, gritting her teeth with another curse. “The Barons--”

“By the  _ Traveler _ ,” Era grumbles, heaving herself upward. “Sit down, Aurora. That’s an order.” 

Aurora’s upper lip curls. “Who are you again?” 

“Era-3,” says the exo, “a  _ friend.”  _ She nudges forward and settles Aurora back onto the floor, much to her frustration.

A friend. She says it so plainly, like Aurora is just supposed to  _ believe her.  _ Trust her.

Something clicks into place and something Era had said the night before scratches against Aurora’s memory, unsettling her further. “You said you knew Shiro.”

“We’re old friends,” Era says, shifting against the back wall. She crosses her arms over her chest in a smaller approximation of Shiro’s relaxed stance; Aurora wonders if she’s doing it on purpose. “I met with him--went to Felwinter’s Peak. He said he hasn’t seen you in awhile.”

And  _ that _ clicks things into place, almost painfully so. 

“You’re an Iron Lord,” Aurora says, somewhat dumbfounded--partially awed. “ _ You _ .”

Era snorts. “Don’t let the title fool you. I’m no hero.”

There’s a story there, a pain in Era’s eyes when she looks back at Aurora. 

Aurora ignores it. 

“How much do you remember?” Era asks. 

“We were ambushed by the two Barons,” Aurora says, distracted. Ember’s concern for her is a bright light at the center of their link. “The Rifleman and the Mindbender.”

“It was a trap, to separate you from your Light.” Ember says. 

“My memories are...hazy,” Aurora admits, rubbing her head. “I remember getting close to the Rifleman. I had him pinned down, tethered, but all of a sudden everything started glowing green and my whole body went weird and sort of...cold.”

“You lost connection to your Ghost,” Era tells her, “allowed for that nasty scar.”

Aurora’s arm  _ burns _ . 

“Whatever you thought when you came out here, whatever score you’ve come to settle, you’re not on your own anymore. I’m--”

“Look,” Aurora interrupts her, “I get it. And I know I should be grateful. But I don’t know you. How… _ why  _ are you out here? The Vanguard didn’t approve this mission. I’m on my own--in more ways than one. If you want any chance at being a normal Guardian back at the Tower...go now.”

“I left my comrades behind once for the sake of my own pride, I won’t do the same thing again.” Era’s eyes narrow into sharp green slits. “Cayde-6 is dead. Whatever the Vanguard think, his killers need to pay.” 

Aurora nods, and drops her hand from her wounded arm to extend it outward, toward Era. “That,” she says, grinning, “is something I can agree on.” 

“Excellent,” Era nods, a smile in her voice. “Now, to business--”

“Business? I do hope you’re not settling things without me,” the Spider rumbles from the next room. “Guardians--come. We’ve our own matters to attend to.” 

Era shifts her weight. “I haven’t been a Guardian in a long time, Spider.”

“No? Hm, perhaps you’re right. What  _ do  _ they call rogues such as yourselves, hm?” 

“Lightbearers,” Era answers easily, firmly. “We’re Lightbearers.”

The Spider chuckles as he leans backward. “ _ Lightmongers,”  _ he sneers, “a coward and a rogue.”

_ Coward. Rogue.  _ The words sit in Aurora’s stomach and make her blood boil. “If that’s all, we’ll be going.”

“Oh? And I suppose you’re off to find the final Barons on your own? That worked so well for you before,” the Spider says. 

_ “Actually, yes!”  _ Slip appears, his shell dancing.  _ “I think Ember and I are capable of gathering the intel on our own. And our Guardians are smart!” _

“Smart? This one nearly got herself  _ killed _ ,” Spider snarls. The dead Ghost shell he holds falls out of his hand as he leans forward. “And  _ you--” _

“That’s enough,” snaps Era, stiffening. “We’ll be going.” 

The Spider hisses. “It’s a shame...that sharp tongue of yours...couldn’t have saved the Iron Lords you called friends,” he says, his breathing low and rasping. “Otherwise...well. You might not be so alone.” 

Era goes rigid. The air around her crackles and pops, a bluish glint hugging her shoulders as she turns, stiff, and walks out of the room. 

Startled and a little bit scared, Aurora follows behind her. 

~

The Mad Bomber is dead. Three remain--the Machinist, the Hangman, and the Fanatic. 

“The Fanatic will be the hardest to kill, seeing as how he’s Uldren’s right-hand man.” Era says. “He’s bigger than the rest--Slip’s reports say he’s more powerful, too. He’s incredibly loyal to Uldren. He’ll do anything to protect their plan.”

“Plan,” Aurora echoes, blinking. “What...plan?”

Era reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small fragment of...something. “Feel this.”

Aurora takes the fragment into her hand. 

“Feel that?” Era asks. “Pure Light--it’s a shard of the Traveler, or at least, a shard of a shard.  _ Someone  _ snatched it from the bigger piece in the EDZ--give you three guesses as to who.”

Aurora’s lip curls. 

“According to your friend Petra, the Shore’s home to a Watchtower that leads to one of the Awoken’s most sacred sites. The Dreaming City hasn’t seen outsiders in centuries, but if Uldren’s planning to find it somehow...the stories the City could probably tell...well. I don’t want to know what he plans to use that shard for.”

“We’ll have to stop him first.”

“We have to kill the Barons.” Era shakes her head. “Eliminate the threat the Barons pose to us, dwindle Uldren’s army down to nothing.”

Aurora nods, then summons Crimson into her grasp and starts rubbing at the edge, easing away flecks of dried blood from the barrel. 

Then she looks up, something occurring to her, and she can’t quite find it in her to meet Era’s gaze. “Why did the Spider call you  _ coward?” _

Era’s voice hitches. “Pick up on that, did you?”

“He called me rogue, and...I guess I can see why.” Aurora shifts her weight. “But you--”

“I’m going to go scout the terrain,” Era says, standing. Her armor shifts around her, clicking together as she moves. “When I return, we need to discuss that stunt you pulled, back in the fight with the Mindbender.”

Aurora blinks. “The...stunt…?”

The light behind Era’s mouthpiece flares briefly as Era looks at her, amusement rolling off her in waves. “Do you remember what you used to kill the Baron?” She asks. “Which subclass, which aspect of the Light?” 

“Solar, I think.” Aurora shuts her eyes. The memories are still blurry. Trying to focus on them makes her head ache, and the  _ itch-- _

“You used Sunbreaker, Aurora--or at least, a variant of it. You are a Hunter, yes?” 

“Of course,” Aurora snorts, fluffing her cloak behind her. 

“Sunbreaker is a Titan ability.” Era says the words slowly, carefully, like she’s talking to a New Light. “Technically speaking, Guardians your age shouldn’t be able to use abilities outside of your designated class. Your class is everything you are--now and in your past life. It’s a reflection of your temperament, your skills both old and new.”

Aurora nods, only half following. Her head spins.

“We didn’t have classes in my day,” Era says, the words a whisper, rattling out into the air. “We weren’t even Guardians, then. Your Light is still new, bright--but the Mindbender changed something. You’ve cast off the shroud the Vanguard put you under. Your abilities--”

“You sound like one of the cryptarchs,” Aurora interrupts with a huff. “I don’t care about  _ why  _ I can do it, I need to know if I can do it  _ again.”  _

Era’s eyes narrow--or is she rolling them?--and with a sigh, she turns her back to Aurora. “Very well. Follow me.”

“Where are we going?” Aurora asks. 

“Somewhere away from prying eyes,” the Iron Lord answers. “You need to train--before you hurt yourself again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ty for readingggg!


	11. fire and flying sparks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Era...is a better teacher than Aurora thought she'd be, but not all of her lessons are easy to hear.

She hits the ground hard. 

“You’re rusty,” Era chides, clicking in disappointment. “When was the last time you sparred with another Lightbearer?” 

Aurora’s eyes narrow as she pushes up from the ground. “The last time?” She echoes. “It was…”

_ With Cayde. _

She’d just come back from a failed mission--failed, because she hadn’t brought back the one person she’d gone to save. Tevis had died. She’d never had a chance to meet him, but from his hand, she’d gleaned the ability to harness the Void. 

It had halted her progress, for a time. The Void was  _ different-- _ cold and constantly changing. It scared her in a way nothing else had. There was so much unknown to it, and Cayde had helped, in the end. 

She’s used Nightstalker for a long, long time. 

She uses it now in memory of them both. 

“Focus!” Era shouts, and Aurora earns an elbow to the face for her lapse in foresight. “Your mind is too busy. Keep it quiet, and you’ll find the ability to fight.” 

“It’s not my fault--” Aurora drops her hand, tries to summon a knife, and comes up with a tiny flaming hammer instead. “What the  _ hell  _ is this?” 

“Your weapon,” Era grunts back, her eyes flaming with the purple light of a Sentinel’s Void. “Use it!”

With a snarl, Aurora ducks backward, the hammer still in her hand, and twists through the air, narrowly avoiding the shield in Era’s hands. “This is a hammer. This is a very small, baby-sized hammer.” 

Era lunges again, and Aurora dodges once more. As the shield’s light dissipates, Era’s fist separates the purple cloud it leaves. She’s strong; the blow sends Aurora flying into the air. She lands in the dirt, panting, and sits with her legs crossed. 

The grass crunches beneath Era’s feet as she walks toward her. When she looks up, Era’s hand is extended toward Aurora, and her head is tilted. 

“You’re distracted,” she says, sighing. “Losing your Light threw you more than you’d like to admit.”

“I didn’t lose my Light,” Aurora says through gritted teeth. “It just...disappeared for a bit.” 

“And as a consequence, separated you from the identity you’ve built around yourself as a Guardian.” Era stares at her, unblinking. “Well? Am I wrong?” 

Aurora closes her mouth, sheepish. “N...o…”

“You’re vulnerable like this, Aurora. A danger to yourself and to me. If you cannot find it in you to fight as a Lightbearer once more, then Uldren will walk free, without paying for what he did.”

Aurora scowls. 

“How long have we been out here? How much will you squander away for the sake of training? We’re wasting time out here, Aurora.  _ Focus.  _ Let’s go again.”

Era squares her shoulders and turns, attempts to walk down to the other end of the field, but at her words Aurora’s temper  _ flares  _ and she stands up, snarling, and summons her Light--in any form. 

If Era sees her coming, she doesn’t move to block Aurora’s blow--a powerful hit that sends her sprawling several feet away, drops her onto one knee in the mud. 

Aurora is winded as she prepares for the return blow, but it never comes. 

“Next time, make sure you choose a part of the Light to wield, don’t open yourself up to it without a plan.” Era says. There’s something different in her stance when she shifts, something more...ready, excited, firm. She winks. “Go again.”

And they do.

~

The Hangman falls. 

Aurora is dead for most of the battle; Ember hangs in suspension, waiting for a safe moment to revive her, still on edge after the death of Sundance. 

The Hangman falls, and even though Aurora is tired, bleeding, and shaky as she prepares to make the final blow, her aim is true. 

Void Light shafts through her hands. Its whispers snake through her mind like seductive tendrils, and distantly, she can’t help but marvel at how different this Void Light feels; unlike the bow of the Nightstalker, a sentinel’s shield is firm in her hand, protective, unfailing. It doesn’t slip from her fingers so easily. It stays, warms in her hand, and instead of obedience, the shield demands a sort of...pride. 

That, she can give. 

Aurora’s hands come away clean, but as the Sentinel’s shield disappears from her grasp, its wavering edge is slick with blood. 

“You did well,” Era rumbles from somewhere behind her, “though I sense your affinity for Solar Light hasn’t changed.”

_ Affinity.  _ The word feels strange now, with her Light the way it is. Pulled in so many directions, she’s not sure where her instincts fall. 

“Two left,” Aurora whispers, exhaling slowly. She swallows, stares down at her hands. “I really… didn’t mean to summon the shield, that time.” 

“I’m aware,” Era huffs, “but you maintained and controlled it, and that’s what matters.” 

There’s something familiar in Era’s tone; the way she speaks, wisdom underlaid with a softness that isn’t quite present in her  _ words,  _ just in how she says them.

Aurora looks up, her lip twitching in a smirk--bordering on a smile. “This isn’t the first time you’ve taught someone like this, is it?” 

Era looks down at the ground, then at the fraying edges of her gauntlets. She sighs. “Comes with the territory, I suppose.” She says. “I’m centuries old. I’ve had a student or two.”

“ _ Iron Lord _ students?” Aurora asks, intrigued. 

Era fixes her with a look that is somehow incredibly charged, without the muscles required for anything like an actual  _ expression.  _ “The sooner you stop caring about titles, the better you’ll feel,” she says. “They were students and apprentices. That’s all.” 

Aurora looks at Era. “I’m a Guardian,” she says softly, “titles are all I’ve got.” 

Era looks back and stares at her, silent, but Aurora can feel the disappointment in her gaze. 

“What you’ve got,” says the Titan, softly, “is your Light, and what  _ matters  _ is what you  _ do with it.”  _

_ Guardian.  _

_ Young Wolf.  _

_ Kid.  _

_ Hunter. _

Names, titles, nicknames, running jokes. She’s been called a lot of things in her handful of years as a Guardian, and every word’s meant so much to her. To lose it--to have lost some of her power in the Red War--to lose it now so far from the City… 

“I think I’m going to hold onto this one for a while,” she says, shaking her head. “Being a Guardian means too much.”

“One day, you’ll learn what the Vanguard really thinks of their Guardians.” Era’s tone turns sour. “I hope you fare better than I did. It’s a hard lesson.” 

Aurora blinks. “You’re a Guardian.”

“I bear the Light,” Era says, “but I’m no Guardian. I serve no City.”

“What do you do, then?”

“For a time, I ran alone as a Sunbreaker, surviving in the wilds.” Era says. “Then Saladin found me. I trained alongside him--eventually, I took the title of Lord. A few months later, the Iron Lords died. I’ve been alone ever since. After you lose everyone you’ve ever loved… Well. The title loses its sheen.”

Suddenly, the depth of what Era’s lost is more than Aurora can bear. “I understand,” she says, not really understanding at all. “And… for what it’s worth. Thank you. For being here. Helping.” 

Era’s eyes narrow, go dim, just a little. “We’ve still much to do, little bird,” she says, humming. “Cayde must be avenged. You must wield your Light. Come--let me teach you how to craft a Ward of Dawn.”

Aurora  _ grins _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!!

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! leave a kudos on your way out <3


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